No Simple Affair
by x-MJ-x
Summary: When Sahira realises there's no point fighting against what she knows will happen anyway, she walks a dangerous path, but not alone. This will be 'no simple affair'. Rated 'M' for slightly mature isssues which arise in Greg's past and mild suggestion
1. Turning Tables

**Hello lovely people, **

**It just me with the Holby bug again, more specifically the Sahira and Greg bug – but who doesn't have that? I decided with this one to go multi chaptered and build this up slowly. As such you should learn not to expect, or at least to expect the unexpected with this. I should say something about the rating, although it is 'M', not all chapters work to this rating (this one for example would probably be T) but some will be heavy on the mature content in more ways than one so if you're intrigued please stick with me. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be marked in italics. **

**More specifically to this chapter, the title is taken from the song of the same name by the beautiful and talented Adele. You'll remember it was in the sound track for the 'first kiss' in 'P.S Elliot' and I really thought it was beautifully fitting then and also appropriate here so all credit should go to Adele and her record label.**

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><p>It was overwhelming; the sting of antiseptic burned her eyes and swarmed her nasal passages. On top of this, she was bitingly aware of the warm, metallic scent of blood. Usually things like that didn't bother her, that was not to say that she was unaware of them, she not as immune as Jac Naylor for example -but she could usually be objective about surgery and perform the operation to the best of her ability whilst remaining human. Today was a different story all together.<p>

She had become emotionally involved in this case and she had known it from the beginning, ordinarily this would have been clear signal for her back off but she hadn't taken it. She had let her emotions sway her judgements and had missed the patient's deterioration and so was paying the price with the ultimate in messy chest cavities. Jac would pull her up on it later, but frankly she could go and take a run and jump. She had bigger problems. Like working out exactly why she was a blithering idiot today. Of course, she also knew the answer to that.

Usually, if she was in a sticky situation in theatre, or even generally, she only had to look up and there_ he _would be. His icy blue eyes connecting with hers and invisibly transferring some strength to her - always exactly the kind of strength she needed to get through. She didn't even need to say anything; he would just know and respond accordingly. But she had gone and screwed that one up too. She had pushed him away and now every day she watched as he meticulously studied and amended the theatre list to avoid all possible contact with her. He had been the voice of reason in a crisis, her stabiliser even and now that he was gone she was wobbling - soon to fall.

She took a moment internally to calm herself but it wasn't working. She needed Greg Douglas - craved his wisdom and insight and instead she was lumped with an over keen F1 in her shadow and an over presumptive know-it-all F2 who had been assigned to her for the day by their insatiably vindictive boss. Neither of these two were any use to her right now and even less so, was the forbearing presence of Rafi, who sat as he often did at home, at the head of the table overseeing proceedings with a quiet look of contemplation on his face.

She worked steadily, issuing instructions to Oliver carefully and precisely as they attempted to repair the damage to Helen Stoppard's heart but even that wasn't enough to ground her to the moment and she felt herself begin to float away from the scene in front of her, in which she played a vital part. Somehow, for the first time in her working life she was thinking of her own heart instead of the heart she held in her hands. In fact so consumed was she by the huge hole gaping in her heart that she didn't even hear Oliver's panicked pleas for her attention.

"Miss Shah – we've got an arterial bleed!" He told her, his voice wavering in fear.

Still she did not react, seemingly frozen by her own pain and there was only one thing which could draw her out of her reverie, something which at one time had sent a thrill right to her very soul but now which grated on the very essence of her being. The deep voice of her husband, penetrating her most illicit thoughts.

"Sahira! We're losing her, her BP's through the floor!" He told her firmly and she drew back sharply, crashing down to Earth. Looking down at her patient, she realised exactly how dire this situation was. The alarms bells began to sound and she felt her own pulse race.

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><p>Her tears rolled quickly down her cheeks slipping from her chin and immersing themselves with the running water. She tried to suck it up but the more she tried, the harder she cried and she was caught in a viscous circle. She leaned her elbows into the basin and tried to clean the invisible bloodstains from her wrists and arms. She had heard people use the expression 'their blood on your hands' but she had never really known what it meant. In a literal sense she was perpetually removing blood-stains from her hands after surgery, but the kind of blood on your hands mentality those people were talking about was entirely metaphorical. She understood it now. It was the extreme guilt she felt at having lost a patient solely through her lack of attention. She had Helen Stoppard's blood on her hands in more ways than one and she knew that no matter how hard she scrubbed, it would not come off.<p>

On her fifth attempt to purge her skin of the stains, she heard the heavy vacuumed door swing open and closed and suddenly her self-deprecation was made manifest and began to consume her.

"What were you thinking?" His voice was harsh and it set her on edge, but she hardly seemed to process the words he spoke. This was made evident when she did not reply.

"Sahira? What is going on with you today?" He had softened his voice an octave now.

"I... I wasn't." She whispered and she knew this hardly made sense.

"You weren't what?" He asked in mild confusion, the sound of his rubber-soled shoes squeaking against the linoleum as he took a step closer.

"Thinking Ok? I wasn't thinking about the patient." She replied, her voice shaking with emotion.

This truth seemed to reverberate through the enclosed space and she felt its heaviness on her heart as a strangled sob escaped her. There was a tense silence in the room before she felt his presence directly behind her, quickly spinning her body towards him and drawing her roughly in close.

Her fingers gripped the deep V in his scrubs savagely as the crook of his elbow closed around her slender frame and held her up. She was sobbing recklessly now, her tears dampening the green theatre-attire as she heaved in huge gulps of air and inhaled his scent. It was something which had brought her comfort once. The familiar smell she breathed in now – iodine and light spices. It was even a smell which she had been attracted to, but now it represented everything she found repellent. Even his deep and tender murmurings washed over her without absorption as she sobbed, his voice no longer a comfort but rather a source of her disquiet, a constant reminder that she had something to feel guilty about. It was almost as if every word in that deep baritone of his was his accusation, probing for her admission of guilt. Still she clung to him, hoping to find... something. Solace? Peace? Acceptance? Forgiveness? All of the above and none of which she could she obtain from him. The man who had once been everything to her was now nothing and she hated that emotion. Despite the feelings of extreme self-hatred this admission inspired in her, she couldn't deny that it was true.

It was as if the tables had been turned and everything she had once known and felt safe in was gone, in its place was uncertainty and danger but those were the things she craved. As she stood there clinging to her husband like she was more symbolically clinging to their marriage, she knew there would always be something between them now and his name was Greg Douglas...

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><p><strong>So there you go, I hope you enjoyed this opening chapter in this story and will let me know what you thought. I think that it is important to heed the title of this story more generally as you continue with and try not anticipate what will happen next, because most of the time I can guarantee you I will do something different... <strong>

**More of this one coming soon. **

**Thank you for reading, I think I caught all the edits but if not please forgive me. **

**Love always, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	2. The Art of Watching

**So here's the second part, I'm just kind of spilling forth all the ideas that I have on this one, I have probably the first five chapters planned – I spend way too much time on the train with nothing better to do and fortunately these story ideas save me so it's now just a case of writing them down for your reading pleasure. **

**Thank you to 'Gemma A.S' – your review means the world as I'll tell you in a moment or two ;-) **

**I hope you enjoy this chapter and will let me know what you think of it. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City its plots or characters and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

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><p>She was slumped behind the nurse's station, her body as deflated as her spirit as she massaged her temples slightly. Today had been a bad day, for more reasons than the obvious. It wasn't just about the patient she had lost, of course she cared deeply that Helen Stoppard's death had been caused by her own actions, but it was so much more than that. They weren't super heroes after all and bad days just happened. Sometimes in this job it was a losing game. But on a personal level she had come to a realisation that she simply was no longer content to pretend, that she could no longer deny that something was missing or what that was. To complicate matters further, she had done nothing to deny those feelings, in fact she had succumbed to her dependency issues and now, after her dressing down from the boss she craved his friendly face more than ever. Of course she knew that the comfort she sought would very likely be denied even by him given her recent behaviour and the games which had been played with his heart.<p>

It was ironic really, when she thought about it. They were heart surgeons, they spent all day holding the most vital organ in a person's body in their hands and most of the time they succeeded in fixing any problem which presented itself but, she thought with a small laugh, they had absolutely no problem grinding their own hearts into the dust. Each member of the cardiac team had their romantic issues, each one a restless wanderer in the land of love and she wondered if there was some inherent commonality there: A cruel comment being made. They said if you worked with chocolate all day you found it intolerable after a while and she wondered if the same could be said about hearts. Whether if you spent so long fixing everyone else's, you would simply become sick of your own. She certainly felt heartsick right now, she thought to herself with an ironic sadness.

She tried once again to centre herself, to find a sense of calm which wasn't constructed by anyone else, but she was failing miserably. All her life she had been defined in relation to another person, a man no less – Hanssen as her mentor and boss, Rafi as her lover and husband and Greg as her friend and what? The cause of her unhappiness. That was he really was and yet, she felt that if she could not make up with him, come to some agreement over all this, she would never be happy again. She couldn't understand such a dichotomy as the one she now faced and this only became added to her list of problems. How to deal with Jac now that she was on the war path, how she would justify Helen's death when David returned from the meeting she had told him it was perfectly safe for him to attend – that his wife was in good hands, the best – hers. Added to this she had to decide what she was going to do about Rafi. He worked here now and she couldn't keep him as person only constituted by a name. People had met him now and they liked him. He had thoughts and feelings and she knew that whatever her course of action stay or go – if that was even her choice – she would be the bad guy and he the victim. That was right of course, she knew that but somehow everything would have been easier if he was just her invisible barrier and excuse and not a living and breathing reality. Her biggest problem however, was what to do about Greg. She needed him in her life, that much she knew but she had no idea in what capacity she wanted him now. Was it as '_her best friend in this place' _or was it something more complex, less finite and definable? She already knew the answer but she wasn't quite ready to admit that right now. She was already overwhelmed by the advancements in her knowledge today and that was quite enough.

She wasn't sure what to do now. Jac had instructed her to take herself off the theatre list for the rest of her shift, not as punishment she had half-hearted assured her, but rather for the good of surgeon-patient relations and for the good of the patient –she had added with a bitter smirk. Now that she had finished her notes and completed her ward round there was little else to do but sit and contemplate the complexity of her life. Something which was slowly drawing her into the realms of insanity. She knew what she needed – to hole up with Greg her friend and confidant, tucked away on the window ledge in the staff room, a packet of crisps between them as she poured out her heart whilst he murmured the same platitudes Rafi had earlier but this time, they actually made her feel better. She wanted to see the glint in his eye as he watched her try to deny herself that ready-salted delight, she wanted to feel his hand on her shoulder as it settled there to give her the comforting squeeze which told her that whatever else happened in his eyes she was absolved. But there were multiple reasons why this was neither practical neither a good idea. The first of which was demonstratively the fact that he was nowhere to be found.

When she had settled here in her self-pity, her eyes had instinctively looked towards the theatre list to see if she could locate him there, somewhere concrete and far distanced enough that she could get her breath back. No such luck. Neither had he been present on her ward round and neither Oliver nor Tara could account for his whereabouts. There was little point in enquiring on the same point with Jac, unless she wanted to be mercilessly subjected to speculation. Which she definitely did not and since Elliot was lecturing at St James' today, his guess was as good as hers.

Half an hour passed and she realised with growing self-irritation that she was becoming impatient for his return; it seemed to be the only thing which would bring her any peace of mind. This growing dependency on his presence for her own validation made her loathe her own weakness as a woman but this did little to abate the feelings which had started low in her stomach and had steadily risen to her heart. Should she be worried? Was she just being crazy? Of course she was and she hated to think what her concern said about the way she felt about him. She would not admit it and that was the end of it.

'_Coffee Sahira, that's what you need'_ she thought to herself as she got up and made her way across the ward towards the staffroom.

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><p>A good strong black coffee was exactly what was on her mind as she made her way to their break room, thoughts of the sharply bitter liquid as it burned her throat and warmed her stomach the only thing which consumed her as she opened the door and entered the room.<p>

For a moment she was completely unaware of anything but her own solitary presence but then the faint murmurings of someone alerted her to another presence in the room and she snapped out of her caffeine fantasy, noticing what she had failed to until that point. Something blindly obvious – literally.

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><p>There on the surface of the little kitchenette were two people who most certainly were not interested in coffee. She should have turned and left right there and then but something had her rooted to the spot. She couldn't explain it. Voyeurism in these private moments had never been her thing but here she was complete mesmerised by the scene unfolding before her.<p>

The two people were coiled around each other, a woman's half covered leg thrown around a man's waist and her head thrown back against the chipboard cupboard. Neither person spoke but they didn't need to. Their bodies were speaking a language all of their own and they emitted such noises as she had never heard. She was hardly inexperienced but the woman, whose face was obscured, was making noises she was not sure she was capable of herself. The woman hardly seemed to matter though. Sahira found that her attention was arrested by the figure of the man. She knew she make her exit now whilst the couple were in the throes of passion and wouldn't notice her presence, but she couldn't move, her legs seemed leaden. He had his back to her but still she could tell he possessed a fine figure. He was more clothed than his female counterpart, his trousers caught haphazardly about the backs of his knees, somehow defying gravity as his body thrust forward. She shouldn't have been watching, she knew this was a forbidden experience but she couldn't help fixing her vision on the way his muscles flexed with the efforts he was going to. She watched his backside shamelessly, experiencing a thrill as she noted the way its globes moved as he did, mimicking his movements and drawing her attention to his exposure...

She heard a change in their breathing and witnessed an increased frenzy which signalled that it was her cue to leave now more than any one of the countless opportunities she had had until this point, but she almost couldn't leave until she had joined them in the crescendo of this thrillingly uncomfortable situation. She watched as the man pressed a hot kiss to the woman's shoulder and she let out a feral scream. Sahira knew what that meant but still she longed to hear his reaction. This beautiful figure was all that mattered to her now. He pulled back and slammed into the woman one final time before releasing a grunt and, though she had been doing a poor job of denying it until now as she heard his murmured pleasure, his identity was revealed to her.

In that single utterance, a deep and throaty 'yes', she became forced to admit that the man in front of her was none other than Greg Douglas. She couldn't help the gasp which escaped her as she watched him lay kisses across the entirety of the woman's neck, dipping down and grazing her obscured breasts and perhaps moving lower. She quickly covered her mouth, as if this action would erase the sound which had already escaped but nothing could, she knew that. All she could do was retreat.

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><p>Greg turned his head sharply over his shoulder, certain he had heard something behind them but found no evidence. None but the rapid swish of dark, caramel flecked hair as the witness to his release retreated from her dangerous and forbidden voyeurism... Only then did he finally realise that he was not alone in his feelings of torture.<p>

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><p>Back at the nurse's station Sahira didn't quite know what to do. She picked up her pen and tried to focus on the random sheet of paper she had extracted from the in tray. If she could only look like she had been deeply immersed in something it would all be fine when he and his partner slipped from the staffroom. It was no use however, every time she tried to read over the safety notice Hanssen had sent out she just got images of him, moving, thrusting... gratuitously partaking in pleasure. She fanned herself a little in an attempt to quell her racing, thready nerves but she just felt sick. Not simply because she had been privy to something so private but because her body was alive with excitement...<p>

She saw the door crack open as one or the other of them tested the waters and panic began to rise in her chest. What if they knew? It was then that she saw Rafi walking towards her and she had honestly never been more grateful for his presence. Her eyes must have been wild because in seconds, her husband was by her side.

"Sahira?" He asked for lack of any other way to express his concern.

"Darling..." She murmured but it didn't sound right anymore, as forced as the last time she had uttered it.

"Sahira, what's the matter?" He asked worriedly, taking her by the shoulders and looking her deeply in the eye as she might if she was trying to determine whether one of the boys really was running a temperature or was simply playing games with her for the jelly and ice-cream treatment.

She must have seemed half mad to him and right now she felt it. Only minutes ago she was convincing herself that Rafi was not the person she needed anymore and now here she was clinging to him again.

"Nothing... Nothing darling I'm fine... Just please..." She whispered as she saw over her shoulder that the nameless-faceless nurse had slipped out of the staffroom.

"Sahira?"

"Please darling, take me home." She murmured in a low whisper as Greg opened the door fully and looked right at her.

"Take me home." She repeated firmly, pressing her lips to her husband's in her best effort at passion, which seemed to make her blood curdle and her skin seem to crawl.

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><p>Greg's eyes turned black as coals as a dangerous emotion swelled in his stomach. He balled his hands into fists and stormed off in the opposite direction, unable to tolerate the false display of affection. For that was all it could be... That was all he would allow for, given what he already knew about her that was the only way he could possibly explain it...<p>

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><p><strong>There you go, I wonder if you can see where I'm going with this, or whether I'm just confusing you! I hope you like what I did, I tried to push that jealousy to a new level adding in the visual dynamic for both of them – making them both realise that they are mutually unavailable... or are they? <strong>

**Guess you'll have to read on to find out. **

**Please do let me know what you think of this one. **

**I hope I caught all the edits, if not please forgive me. **

**Love, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	3. The Forbidden

**Here's chapter three and what happens when those visual experiences explode into a powerful series of emotions... **

**I hope you're enjoying this and will let me know what you think. Thanks to Gemma A.S - Your review means the world to me :)**

**My authors note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics.**

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><p>Today had been difficult in a way that its predecessor had not. Yesterday the majority of her focus was on her professional conduct, today having successfully completed three CTU cases with positive outcomes and therefore having gotten through her allotted work far quicker than if she had been on the regular theatre rotation, she had a lot more time to contemplate her personal conduct. She didn't even want to think about last night and yet, every time she blinked she could see it.<p>

For her, the whole thing had been mortifying and painful. The forced kisses, the hasty undressing, the stunted, awkward fumbling around in the dark, his breathing hot and heavy, her body quaking with the repulsion of what she was making him do. Such was her night with Rafi and contrary to alleviating the tension which had been rising in the pit of her stomach since she had stumbled upon Greg and his nurse, she only felt even more tightly wound. Her husband's relentless pounding, hurried and frenzied as he took advantage of her indeterminate improvement in mood, had done nothing to offer her any release. She knew that the reason for this was because Rafi had been unable to bring her satisfaction for a long time now, perhaps even before Indy was born three years ago. It wasn't that he didn't try. They had been together since her second year at med school when he had been her mentor and perhaps that was the problem. He knew her too well, understood the patterns of her body and knew the reason behind every mark and scar. He anticipated her movements and she his and so things never came as a surprise. There was only the expected with Rafi and she craved... something else. She wanted the release that nurse had clearly achieved, she wanted to hear herself emit those sounds to know that they were born of a place of pleasured pain and sweet torture. She wanted to feel that when she closed her eyes to surrender herself to the moment, she could fly, that the heights she could reach were boundless and she knew who she wanted to give all of this to her: A certain Irishman whose naked form still clung to the backs of her eyelids, despite her best efforts to erase it.

This was a terrible situation. Not only was she unhappy, not only was she using her husband cruelly and in ways he was completely unaware of, but she was doing all of this – putting herself through the hopeless process of asking the question 'what if?' – All for a man who had clearly moved on. Yesterday in the heat of that moment, there had been no residual regret, no wistful thought for her – there had been only the moment and she knew that for him, it wouldn't have mattered if it had been her or the agency nurse, or even one of _The Sun's _most amply endowed page three girls. It was all about the act with him, that much had been clear from his actions of the previous afternoon, there had been no thought for the woman, she had merely been a vessel for the facilitation of his release and she knew that had it been her in the nurse's place, the feelings would have been no different. It didn't matter that he said otherwise, Greg Douglas was ruled by carnal desires alone and women existed in relation to his ability to meet this need.

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><p>It didn't matter that in a simple touch, the brush of his fingers against hers for example, he could have her thinking the most dangerous of thoughts. It didn't matter that every time he gripped her hand and she tried to pull away she felt a tenderness resonating from him which seemed almost undeniable. In the end it was just about gratifying his desires. That was why this had to stop: Whatever exactly this was, because all around, no good could come of it. She would end up with nothing and whilst that would be her fault, she couldn't risk everything she did have – the husband, the beautiful boys, the white- picket- fence- house in the suburbs - the whole appearance of the fantasy for the prospect of well, nothing in particular. She valued Greg, she felt strongly for him, but there were more important things. So fixated on her new resolution was she that she didn't even notice that she was no longer alone... until it was too late for her to make her excuses this time...<p>

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><p>The warmth of his breath tickled the back of her neck as she sat frozen in her swivel chair, trying to pretend that he wasn't there. Try as she might however, she simply couldn't -her body naturally responded to his presence, her breathing becoming shallow and her posture instantly tensing.<p>

"Good night was it?" He murmured, his tone sensuous despite the sarcasm.

She tried to ignore him but she knew it would be no use, he would find a way to illicit an answer from her. She realised however, that if she chose to reply him now she could control what that answer would be.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She told him coldly.

"Oh come on" He replied with laughter in his tone "surely it wasn't _that _boring?" He probed further.

"I _don't _know what you mean." She insisted firmly, though her voice shook just a little.

"'_Take me home darling... please take me home'" _He mimicked her words from the previous evening and she had to wonder if she had really sounded that desperate and pathetic. She knew she probably had. He was mocking her but he was not so cruel as to put false emotions into her actions. They had a better relationship than that, at least they had...

"You disgust me." She told him curtly.

"Oh _I _disgust _you_? _This from the woman who watches_..." He replied sarcastically and though he could not see her face, he knew he had created the exact reaction he had been intending – shock, anger and may be just a little excitement.

"I...I..." She stammered, unable to formulate an adequate excuse.

"So... did you see anything you liked?" He asked and if this had been any ordinary day before things had changed between them, she would have laughed but now that comment just made her balk. Of course, she could hardly admit that she had in fact seen something she liked and she could hardly trust herself to answer.

"Come on..." He murmured, leaning in closer to her as if that was even possible and she felt his lips brush against her hairline "I know you did. I _heard_ you." He muttered suggestively and once again she froze, unable to move but completely uncomfortable with this inappropriate display.

"Greg, there is nothing between us. Nothing. Don't you understand that?" She asked, her voice half imploring.

"Nothing? Are you sure about that Sahira?" He asked although by now he was so used to hearing her say it that he had known it would only be a matter of time before she reiterated it.

"Yes." She assured him, pushing her chair back and standing to her full height. She was still a little shaky as a result of his proximity but she would not let him know that.

"Ok." He sighed.

"Ok?" She seemed shocked. "Yeah, you're right, this ends. Right now." He told her, grabbing her by the crook of the elbow and walking her towards the locker room.

She pulled her arm free of his grip just in time to smile reassuringly in the direction of a nurse who gave them a quizzical look as she passed. Greg released her but placed a hand on her lower back as if to stop her from leaving.

"Do you want people to suspect something?" He asked and she shot him a confused look. "Because you're doing a fine job of arousing suspicion. I'm not going to hurt you, you know that, I just want to talk." He told her and he was relieved when she walked with him rather than running.

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><p>She should have taken it as a sign of his intentions when he locked the door behind them but she was too fired up, angry, incensed and excited to notice what he had done and to make the association between his action and the implications of being in a confined space with him, just the two of the them. She knew what usually happened when a situation like this arose and yet she stood there, waiting for him to talk if that was what he really wanted.<p>

"It was you wasn't it?" He asked not beating about the bush. He had crossed the room and advanced on her with a speed which caught her off guard and before she knew what was really happening, her back was against the lockers.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She insisted, knowing it made her seem weak and repetitive.

"I know it was you because you did..." he paused pulling her head around to face him and initiating contact which made her gasp "that." He told her triumphantly.

"What is wrong with you?" She asked quietly, not denying it.

"Excuse me?" He asked with a laugh.

"Yesterday you're in the staffroom screwing some agency nurse and today... what she's gone and now you think you'll try your charm on me?" She sounded irritated and admittedly a little hopeful.

"That was different. You know how I feel about you. What happened with Candice yesterday, that was my way of dealing with all... this." He motioned between them and she felt herself soften at his honesty. She also felt her heart skip a beat as his words – _' you know how I feel about you'_ – did she, really? "So you used her?" She whispered quietly, thinking of her own unsatisfactory release last night.

"Isn't that exactly what you did to Rafi?"He was silent as this sunk in. " Can't you see what this is doing to us... all of us?" He asked running a hand through his hair and mussing it up in a very appealing manner.

"This?" She posed the word as a question. "We agreed Greg, you agreed to let this go, to let me go." She sighed pulling away from him slightly.

"Did I? So much has happened I can't even remember what has been said and what hasn't. All I know is I would never make a promise so foolish. I could never keep it." He told her, his hand coming to rest on her cheek.

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><p>It felt so welcoming, so right, that simple, subtle contact but she knew it was wrong. She was forgetting her own pact with herself. "Greg" she warned, trying to step away "you have to. You must." She told him sadly.<p>

"Sahira, there are any number of things that I would do for you, but I can't do this. I've tried, God knows I have but what I feel for you, nothing can take that away. Not you telling me to stop feeling the way I do, not Rafi and not your marriage. I love you and I won't apologise for feeling that way. Not to you or to anybody else." He told her and her breath was almost stolen. She had never expected him to be quite so serious or to admit an emotion so potent and strong.

"Greg you don't..." She started but he cut across her.

"Don't tell me that I don't know what love is. Maybe you were right the first time around, I've never been married so I'm no expert on that but it doesn't take one of those fifty pounds an hour shrinks to see that you're not happy in yours and you don't have to feel that way. There are other options for you. So I haven't got the best romantic track record, that doesn't mean I don't know what love is or that I don't feel it for you. What I do know about is happiness and pleasure and I know how to give you those things." He assured her.

"Greg, I told you before I'm the one who has everything to lose. I know you don't understand that..."

"You keep talking about what you have to lose and I do understand that but did you ever think that you could stand to gain here too? What if I can give you things that Rafi can't?" He asked, desperate to prove himself to her.

"Like what?" She asked, knowing that this was the completely inappropriate question.

He took a step closer to her, his hand settling on her waist as he watched her draw in a deep breath and he leant in close to her ear.

"Pleasure and happiness and satisfaction like you've never known. I would make love to you like a beautiful woman deserves to be made love to and I'd make it so that you never have to be in need again." He whispered and his words were the tempting fantasy she found in the romance novels she stowed away, her secret desires being made manifest by their very presence. Those words in his rolling, alluring voice were enough to transport her and yet she knew how dangerous it was to entertain even a fleeting thought for them. Here she was telling him that he had to let her go but the truth was she felt his pain when he told her that he couldn't. She knew they couldn't dare to try but the thought of losing him, probably forever once she left this room, was enough to cause a stifled sob to catch in her throat.

* * *

><p>"Greg... Even in a hypothetical world I could never be with you." She whispered sadly.<p>

"Why not? What would be stopping you in a 'hypothetical world'?" He asked genuinely interested and a little hurt by what she said.

"You would. I know that you think what you feel about me is exclusive but doesn't yesterday prove that it isn't? You've clearly moved on, even if you don't realise it."

"Isn't it possible that yesterday was just sex? Sometimes sex is just about release Sahira. It doesn't prove that I've moved on just because I had sex yesterday, it just means I needed release. I was tense, you release your stress by crying or shouting at me..." He paused and laughed a little before continuing, "this was my way of dealing with mine." He told her.

"You see! Can't you hear yourself? To you, I'm just another women. You don't love me Greg, you lust after me. I'm another object on your 'lust list' and once you were done with me, you'd drop me just like Candice." She told him, attempting to move past him.

"No." He told her firmly, blocking her exit and pushing her more tightly against the lockers. "You don't get to tell me how I feel. I know I love you. I know that. You want to know what I really felt yesterday? Dissatisfaction. I have never felt that before and I know why I did- I wanted her to be you, not like that... in the staffroom, but I wished that you'd be there when I got home and I could spend all night slowly making love to you. The reality made me sick - that you weren't going to be there, that I was dreaming..." He broke off and looked away from her in embarrassment and she felt his pain - it was real.

"You know, I couldn't even kiss her - not on the mouth anyway, every time I tried to I just thought of you. How soft your lips are, how good you taste, what it feels like to have your body wrapped around mine and all I could think of was that I was being unfaithful to you - even though I know we're not together. So you see, I'm not some Rakish romantic figure but you are on my 'lust list', just not in the way that you think. I love you Sahira, I mean that." They were silent for a moment and as she thought back to what she had seen yesterday, she realised that he was telling the truth- he hadn't kissed Candice and she felt her heart melt at his justification.

"I don't expect you to say anything, I know it won't make a difference but that doesn't mean I can't tell you." He murmured after a while.

Of course, she could have just told him that it wasn't stupid or foolish for him to be telling her these things, she could have told him that she felt the same way and that it made every bit of difference but somehow she couldn't find her voice. She was a woman who always had something to say and yet now, in this crucial moment she was lost for words. That hardly mattered though, there were other more effective methods of communicating her thoughts...

* * *

><p>They were so close that it didn't take much for her body to be pressed tightly to his, their faces so close that their breath mingled in hot puffs.<p>

"Sahira..." He muttered although his voice was thick with desire and want.

"Ssh..." She whispered as she tilted her head a little.

* * *

><p>It was almost indescribable, the moment when went their lips met again after those long weeks of denial and yet there seemed to be no hesitation. No single sign of awkwardness and their mouths simply melded together. If she was shocked by her own boldness, she had nothing on the man whose lips she was currently doing her best to possess.<p>

He had hoped of course, that by the end of their conversation they could come to some reasonable conclusion which would make working together more tolerable somehow and whilst he had always planned to tell her how he felt about her -properly and truthfully, he had never really imagined that she would react, well quite like...This... Not that he was complaining- it felt amazing to have her lips on his again, her arms thrown carelessly around his shoulders, like there was nothing which could make her happier than kissing him as her body, soft in all the right places, pressed against the taut contours of his own...

* * *

><p>It felt to her like she was coming home after a long and wearisome journey upon which she had been searching, in all the wrong places, for the part of her he had held prisoner for weeks - her heart. In this one kiss she felt it change ownership again, only now she wanted nothing more than for him to keep it safe for her forever.<p>

She let out a low moan as she felt him begin to respond to her for the first time since their lips had met. He kissed her ardently, feverishly and with a passion only he seemed able to achieve and she found her body reacting to him instinctively. She gripped him more tightly; desperate to pull him as close as he could be and her tongue began to engage in the slow but passionately steamy rumba he coaxed her into. Their tongues tangled together as he stroked her inner most walls and she returned the motion. It felt so natural to kiss him like this, to kiss him properly and with her true emotions guiding her and she knew then that she had been a fool to think that she could let him go so easily.

After a time, she felt his hands slide into her hair, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss as a consequence. They soon became frenzied, their hands desperate to have contact with the body of the other person and they both seemed to realise that this was exactly right. Sahira also knew that there was no one who could make her feel the way he could.

* * *

><p>Soon, despite the driving force in their hearts, the physical practicality of their long kiss got in the way of their sustained connection and they broke apart reluctantly. His eyes flicked open and settled on her, desperately attempting to hold onto the picture of the way she looked right now. Her eyes were still closed and her hair was mussed, her breathing was heavy and she seemed more relaxed than she had in weeks. What stole his own erratic breath more than anything though was the beautiful, wide smile which played across her lips. So alluring was it that he could not help leaning in and placing another kiss to that beautiful mouth. It was an unobtrusive kiss, it demanded nothing from her and was simply intended to let her know how happy she made him.<p>

As he felt his own heart rate begin to return to normal, he leant in close to her ear, the warmth of his breath causing goosebumps to rise over the side of her face.

"Tell me Sahira, what's on your 'lust list'?" He asked, his voice husky with desire.

He smiled a little against her, feeling her body contract as a result of the shock of his personal question. "Come on, you can tell me. How are you ever going to get what you want if you don't know how to ask for it?" He whispered and felt her shudder beneath his touch.

"I..." She murmured but then shifted uncomfortably, like she wasn't used to voicing her inner most thoughts.

"It's Ok." He encouraged, realising that this was hard for her.

"I just want... To feel wanted... I want to be happy. I want to feel..._sexy_, I want you to want me." She spoke quietly and it sounded like it caused her great pain to admit these things.

"Do you honestly doubt that I want you?" He asked, a little surprised at this last addition to her list.

"I suppose not, it's just you asked me to tell you what I wanted." She seemed disgruntled by his question and he laughed a little which caused her to pout somewhat.

"Whoa, I'm sorry, I'm sorry it's just, I'm trying to work out the logic behind wanting something you already have."

"What do you mean? She asked, her voice somehow changed in the aftermath of her admission.

"I mean, you already have me. I've been yours hook, line and sinker practically from the moment we met. As for those other things – they are things you don't have either, they're just things that are a little bit lost right now, hidden. That's all, you can find them again, I can give you those things back Sahira." He told her, his hand settling on her cheek as if to reassure her.

* * *

><p>"No." She told him resolutely.<p>

He looked at her in confusion before replying. "No?"

"No. You promised me that if I talked to you, you would let this go, let me go. I can't be with you Greg, it's forbidden." She told him, trying unsuccessfully to distance herself from him.

"Forbidden?" The confusion in his voice touched her heart. "Says who?" He asked for clarification.

"My marriage Greg, it won't just go away you know, Rafi doesn't just disappear – so we have to stop this. Now." She sighed sadly.

"That isn't what you want Sahira, I know it isn't, you can't kiss a person the way you keep kissing me and then tell me that I'm not what you want." He sounded frantic as he tried to hold her and she attempted to push him away.

"What I want doesn't come into it. I have a husband and a family and my first duty is to them. I can't be selfish. My boys are everything to me and if I ever left Rafi my whole life would fall apart, don't you see?" She implored, knowing that this was going against everything in her heart.

"You want to know what I _see_? I see a woman who is kidding herself. You say your family is everything to you, but if that was really true, if they gave you all the things that you needed, you wouldn't be here with me now. You wouldn't have kissed me, you wouldn't have admitted that wanting me to want you is something you desire. You keep talking as if you have everything to lose, but the way I see it you don't have everything – not even by your own definition. So I'm asking you to give me... to give _us_ a chance because maybe being with me wouldn't be the end of the world as you know it. Sure you might lose the perfect life you pretend you've got, but if you're honest, it really isn't perfect at all. As for your children, Rafi could never really stop you from being a part of their life, no matter how hard he tried because I know you Sahira, you would never let that happen. You're their mother and no matter what else happens, you always will be. That's one bond he can't break. So the question you need to ask yourself is, is Rafi really what _you_ want? Can he give you_ everything_ you want and need or is it possible that I just might be the person to do that for you?" He asked her, desperate to make her see that he wasn't simply the lathario she thought he was.

"We can't..." She muttered simply as she felt his lips caress her neck...

* * *

><p>"So don't." He told her, giving the illusion that he had given up hope as he felt her stretch her neck back, allowing him greater access to her perfumed skin. "Walk out of here right now. Go and we'll draw a line beneath it. We'll go on as we were before, friends... colleagues." He continued, his lips ghosting across her skin and meeting with the yellow silk of her blouse.<p>

"I'm not going to stop you." He murmured tracing two fingers over her body, his touch burning the skin in the deep valley of her cleavage and downwards.

"Greg..." She moaned his name as his lips sought hers again and she found herself kissing him back without even realising she was really doing it.

"So... You're not going then?" He asked hearing her gasp as his fingers brushed the hem of her butter cream coloured leather skirt.

"What're you..." She mumbled against his lips.

"Ssh... Trust me." He whispered into her ear.

"Greg..." She wasn't quite sure what she was going to say but her words were stifled by his insistent ones.

"_Trust _me." He instructed.

* * *

><p>Her body tensed reflexively as she felt his cool fingers sliding beneath the soft fabric and over the hot, silken skin of her right thigh.<p>

"Oh God..." The words tumbled from her lips involuntarily as he blindly traced the voluptuous curve of her upper thigh, steadily moving higher, his goal and intention clear.

"Sahira... No words Ok? Just relax, just feel." He soothed, trying to get her to feel the release he knew she needed, not simply on a sexual level, but also from the worries of this situation.

She nodded exaggeratedly and as he looked into her eyes, he wasn't sure he had ever seen a woman look as terrified as she did now. It gave him great pain and he wanted nothing more than to take away that fear. It was a fear he imagined, not of the impending sexual act but of what it would symbolise outside of this room. He loosened his grip on her as if to reassure her that his offer of letting her go still stood and would be accepted without malice if that was what she wanted, but she still stood there with him, her breathing heavy as she waited for his next move. She nodded again, less frantically this time and leant forward to catch his lips and the intense fear he felt inside begin to unravel.

"Close your eyes." He whispered suggestively and she shot him a look of utter uncertainty.

"Close your eyes, trust what you feel." He encouraged and she gave him a weak smile before complying.

"That's it, it's just you and me and I'm not going to hurt you." He crooned as he ghosted his lips against hers and smiled as he watched them part for him.

He was like a hypnotist, he had a strange power over her and she couldn't help but obey him. Despite the intense discomfort she felt – the terror at what they were doing –or rather what was being done to her – the thrill that they were in a public place and could get caught at any moment but most of all, the extreme fear of being discovered as an adulteress by her husband. But the thought of stopping Greg now was incomprehensible.

She tried to relax her mind and focus only on the sensuous pleasure of his touch but it was difficult, even though every part of her body knew that it was right, her brain still worked overtime to remind her of her obligations to another man. It just happened that right now, in this moment her heart was reminding her of her obligations to herself and to her identity as a woman. She took a deep breath and allowed herself to kiss him back, giving herself over to the moment and surrendering her body and mind to him...

* * *

><p>Whilst his lips never left hers in an effort to assure her that his feelings were real, his hand was desperately roving, scaling every inch of her smooth, soft skin in an attempt to commit the map of her body to his memory. Honestly, he had a much bigger goal in mind, something far more intimate and something which he still was not sure she would allow him to explore. Nevertheless, as he felt his fingertips brush the edges of the delicate lace knickers she wore beneath her skirt, he heard an unmistakable gasp and he knew that though she may have fought it, this was what she too wanted.<p>

She couldn't help it – the loud and lust filled gasp which escaped her in a rush of air as she felt his finger slip beneath her lacy underwear.- She knew then what he was doing. Not that she hadn't known before, but now she was certain and her heart raced with excitement. Although she and Rafi had had sex only the night before, it had been so long since she had been touched like this – touched intimately and as a woman – teased and tempted and ultimately denied, that she found her body becoming increasingly over sensitised. She could feel everything, every touch every stroke, every second and she wondered if this was solely to do with the fact that her eyes were closed or whether this effect was something only he could produce in her. Although she knew her lack of vision was heightening the activity of her remaining senses, she knew that it was probably the latter and that sent a thrill straight to her heart.

As the seconds slipped by, moving into minutes she felt herself becoming increasingly frustrated. It seemed in the short space of time which had actually passed like hours since he had initiated this contact and she knew that drawing it out was probably all part of the appeal for him. Although she didn't think to admit it, it was for her too, but that didn't mean she wasn't becoming desperate for his touch – likely the way he wanted her to feel. Right now she was poised to enter into a trajectory towards Heaven and the thing to send her into that orbit would be the next movements of his wonderful fingertips.

* * *

><p>He kissed her for a few moments more before drawing back and allowing his other hand to join its companion beneath her skirt. He was glad then that he had had the foresight to lock the door – this would have looked all kinds of awkward if anyone had walked in right now, but in the cramped space, he was doing the best he could. He was still for a moment as if to ensure that she would keep her eyes closed and when he was certain of that fact he allowed his eager fingers to slide the lace from her hips. It didn't take long for the underwear to pool at her feet and although she stumbled forward out of them, she still kept her promise, her eyes remaining tightly closed.<p>

"You're perfect." He told her, his hand retracting from beneath the fabric and leaving its partner to offer her the pleasure she deserved.

* * *

><p>She said nothing, evidently heeding his words and delighted in watching her body tense against his as once again his fingers trailed their way up her legs and towards the sensitive intimacy at the apex of her thighs. She shuddered against him, gripping his shoulders tightly as if trying to ground herself to something and he realised then that she had probably never known how sensitive her body could be. It saddened him to think that as a beautiful, brilliant woman Sahira was only experiencing these sensations now. It made him angry and his anger fuelled his passion. So much so, that before he had even had time to properly consider how to be delicate about this, his fingers were thrust inside of her.<p>

Her eyes shot open as his fore and middle fingers filled her, perhaps more completely than Rafi could or ever had and she became overtaken by the alarm of this new and extremely pleasurable sensation. They were both frozen for a moment as they adjusted to this new sensation but eventually he spoke.

"Sahira, I'm sorry." He murmured his apology for being too violent and he looked away in shame.

She mustered enough strength to pull his head around to face her and offered him a small and forgiving smile. Even exerting this much control over her facial muscles was difficult given the way the slight movements of his fingers induced her into a state of increasing weakness but somehow she managed it and whilst she still abided his rules, he seemed to understand.

After a while, she slowly slid her right leg upward, bending it until it moved up the metallic surface of the locker and her body seemed to part for his greater access and her benefit. He smiled then and she felt her heart skip a beat. She realised she would do just about anything for that boyish grin and she knew also that he understood that too. It hardly mattered to her right now, Greg was doing something for her that no other man, least of all Rafi had ever thought to do and she was grateful to him.

* * *

><p>Seconds passed and with each stroke and thrust, he elicited a groan or gasp from her which he drank in thirstily but smothered with kisses, lest they be discovered. At first she was entirely still, her only motion that of moving her lips against his but soon, when she became comfortable enough with this sensation she began to move with him her body sinking and then rising again in time with his movements until she was drawn close to her physical limits.<p>

When she was sure that she had reached the heights of her pleasure, she felt him push further into her, his knuckles coiling and closing around her fiery gem. A part of her so secret, so hidden, that Rafi had rarely discerned it, let alone attended to its greatest desires. But somehow this man seemed to know her body intuitively and to recognise and provide for the needs of her secret self. She felt in that moment that she could never hide anything from him. Not that she ever wanted to. She wanted to lay with him in the dark of the night and tell him things she had never told anyone, she wanted him to reveal the facets of his being which until now had remained a mystery. She was infatuated with him, mesmerised by him and he had only given her this one thing.

He felt her begin to pulsate around him and he knew that he had achieved his first goal. He was about to give her the release she had needed, perhaps for the entirety of her adult life and now that he had shared that with her, he knew he never could give her up. He felt her whole body stiffen and he knew she was afraid to let go.

He leant in close to her ear and whispered the words she had longed to hear "It's Ok... Let go, let go." He crooned and her eyes flew open again and locked with his.

"Greg..." She mumbled, unable to express in any recognisable words what she felt in that moment.

"I know, I know..." He whispered as he watched her go.

* * *

><p>It was the most glorious image he had ever seen, the sight of her release; the utter serenity which befell her features and the way in which her body relaxed against his. He knew it was an image which would stay with him for a long time to come. After a while she opened her eyes and a smile played across her beautifully swollen lips.<p>

"Hey..." He smiled at her.

"Hey..." She sounded breathless, he wasn't surprised, this had been so long in coming.

"Are you alright?" He seemed concerned.

"Yes... Fine." She murmured then he watched as she tried to stand independently of him, but wobbled. Luckily he had anticipated this and caught her before she could fall.

"Hey, hey, one step at a time. Take it slowly." He laughed a little.

She gripped his elbows as she began to feel her strength returning. She had never been so moved or incapacitated by a sexual act before and this was almost as shocking to her as the act itself. Eventually, although she was still shaky she managed to disengage herself from him and quickly stepped back into her underwear.

"Greg..." She whispered as they stood there in awkward silence.

"Yes?"

"_Thank you." _

"_For what?" _

"_Reminding me who I am." _She murmured resurrecting a conversation from weeks ago.

"Oh and who is that?" He asked tentatively.

"A woman." She told him in her sensuous voice. He gave her a small smile at this and she returned it.

"Do you want to know what this woman realised?" She asked playfully.

"Tell me."

"That sometimes it's Ok to have a little of the forbidden..." She told him and with one last swift kiss she sashayed towards the door, a little spring in her step as she unlocked the door and then she was gone...

* * *

><p>Greg stood there stunned and confused. Although there had been a sparkle in her eye, he simply could not be sure that what she said meant what he wanted or hoped for it to be mean. Whilst she had clearly enjoyed herself and had hinted that the forbidden pleasure of whatever it was between them was something that she wanted, he knew she would be worrying about the wider implications of what they had done and he hated to think that he could cause her more pain than she was already in.<p>

Despite these worries and the uncertainty they now faced in the world outside of this room, he couldn't help but sink back against the lockers like the love struck surgeon he now was. The wide smile he wore was the biggest indication of the happiness he felt...

* * *

><p><strong>There you go, something a bit different to start this off, I hope that you liked it. There will be some more conventional M but I thought that specific level of intimacy needed to be built up to. I hope you'll let me know what you think. <strong>

**I hope I caught all the edits, if not please forgive my tired brain! **

**Stay tuned for an interesting new turn in the relationship... **

**Love, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	4. THe Galway Girl

**Hello lovely people, **

**Thank you so much for the reviews and interest on this – it means so much to me. Here's the next chapter which takes a different strain to most of the other things I write and deals with some mature content which goes beyond the usual meaning of the rating. So fair warning. Also I admit that I have taken some liberties with the background of Greg so I hope it fits and you like what I've done. Despite this, my author's note remains the same as ever: **

**I DO NOT own Holby City, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Please feel to let me know what you think.**

* * *

><p>He felt as though he had an extra spring in his step as he got into the lift and hit the corresponding number for Darwin. He was dubious though, last time he had felt even the faintest notion of hope, his spirits had quickly plummeted but he just couldn't help but feel that this time he had something to hope for.<p>

As he stepped out onto the ward, he did not try to look for her, despite this being his usual course of action in the morning but headed straight to the locker room to hang up his jacket. As he went through the motions of unlocking the door to his locker and divesting himself of his outer wear, his mind was cast back to the previous day and the delicious moans which had escaped her. He shouldn't be thinking of it, of her like that - it was_ forbidden_after all, but he simply couldn't stop himself. That didn't mean that he wouldn't pay the price today though. Who knew how she would react today? Maybe she had meant what she said before she left, but there was every possibility that she would freeze him out more than she had over recent weeks - the woman did appear to have intimacy issues after all. Or maybe it was just that she craved intimacy, he thought to himself as he remembered her smile. It was this thought which propelled him out of the locker room with the intention of picking up his case load for the day. He realised that he was practically skipping, embodying every romantic cliché in the book - but he seemed unable to moderate his behaviour.

He was almost completely unaware of his surroundings, focused only on being around her because in her presence he felt validated and complete. He was so consumed by thoughts of her that he didn't even notice Jac as she rounded the corner, an armful of files tucked into the crook of her elbow. That was when they collided and twenty patient histories scattered across the floor.

"Ever heard of using your eyes?" She asked sarcastically as the pair of them bent down to gather the notes together.

"Sorry Jac, it was completely my fault I wasn't concentrating." He admitted, shooting her his most charming smile.

"Yes well you ought..." She stopped abruptly as she really looked at him. "Oh no... You've got it too." She told him dryly.

"Got what?" He asked in confusion.

"That distant dreamy look... I think they call it... Happiness." She told him after a pause and he couldn't help but feel that she found even the sound of the word repugnant, much as she had when she had teased him a few weeks ago.

"Well excuse me for enjoying my work." He laughed a little.

"Oh... _That's_what it is, I shall have to speak to Hanssen about this - I've heard bad things about too much happiness manifesting in one place." She replied wittily.

"What do you mean?" He asked, unsure of where this was going.

"Miss Fairy princess over there, she's been floating around sprinkling fairy dust all morning and as for that smile, nothing I can say can wipe it off, not even this..." She paused, setting her face into her usual ice queen expression by way of demonstration.

"What? Even the Jac Naylor special didn't work? Outrageous! Must be an extreme case." He chuckled as he looked towards where she pointed and found that true to what the consultant had said, Sahira wore a smile which seemed everlasting.

"Hmm yes well, I don't suppose you would know anything about this?"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're referring to." He dodged.

"Oh come on, she's happy, you're happy." Jac prompted.

"Well I think I can safely say that the two cases are completely unrelated. You know Miss Shah and I make each other miserable." He told her with mirth that did not match what he had said as he began to stride away towards the nurse's station.

"Yes well, we'll see." She called after him as she watched them closely.

* * *

><p>Suddenly as he approached he found himself overcome with nerves. What if she wanted to pretend that yesterday had never happened? What if things were worse than before? On the other hand, that beautiful smile had yet to leave her lips and as he reached the nurse's station it still did not fade.<p>

He felt butterflies batting their wings against his abdominal wall as he watched her tapping away on the computer - perhaps she had beaten him to his morning switching routine. He had to play it cool because it seemed that she was mastering her emotions well.

"Miss Shah." He decided to keep it formal as he reached across to the in tray and extracted the pile of notes with his name affixed and flipped open the first one pretending to be deeply engaged. At last, he chanced a glance at her face and saw her slightly bemused smile.

"Good morning Mr Douglas." She replied jovially, retaining his formality but adding that personal flourish.

"I'm sorry but did I just get a 'good morning' for the first time in six weeks? Blimey no wonder the weather's changed. What did I do to deserve that?" He laughed.

She glanced around furtively, checking left then right before leaning across the desk and moving close to his ear. "Everything." She whispered and he wanted to kiss her right there. Before he got the chance or forgot himself too much she was up and out on the ward, responding in person to Mr. Flannery's call for assistance in bed two.

* * *

><p>The morning passed without any of their customary awkwardness and he was glad, they had a job to do first and foremost and being back on speaking terms made that so much easier. Added to that of course was the absence of Dr. Raza on the ward today and he had to wonder how much of her good mood was due to this fact.<p>

He was just finishing up the post-operative care plan for one of his young patients when he saw her racing across the ward towards the red CTU line. He handed over to the nurse and went to see what they had coming in.

She was murmuring into the phone as he got there, it rested in the crook she had made between her shoulder and ear as she frantically scribbled what she could about the case onto the sheet of paper in front of her. He watched as she wrote the words 'massive coronary bleed, ETA five minutes' before circling the last three words and telling the caller that yes, they would be ready to receive the patient and hanging up.

"Ok?" He asked concernedly as he followed her to the lift where he would stop, any minute she was going to bark 'I've got this' before thundering off on her own and this time he wouldn't stop her, he had only just to begun to reconcile with her.

"It's bad, sounds like an RTA turned into a blood bath... Something about a piece of the steering column piercing the heart and a massive arterial bleed-out. Just please" she begged looking upwards "don't let him be dead on arrival." She finished as she hit the down button and waited for the lift to come.

"You're Ok with this one?" He dared to ask and she turned to him with her beautiful, sad eyes.

"Actually I wondered if you could help me out... I think I might need you to hold my hand." She told him as she stepped into the lift and waited for him to join her, it was hard to admit and she would understand if he didn't wish to accompany her after the way she had treated him, but it was hard to hide the fact that suddenly her hands were shaking and she needed him to steady her.

"Are you sure?" He asked tentatively, stepping in anyway.

"We're Ok again aren't we?" She asked wondering if he felt differently after yesterday.

"Course we are, I just thought you wanted me to keep my distance with Rafi." He replied, hating that he had to bring up her husband and her marriage.

"I know what I said, but sometimes I feel like I can't do this job without you. Sometimes I feel like I can't do anything without you - getting your advice, double checking... Besides, Rafi's on Keller all day." She sighed as they began to lurch towards the entrance level, berating herself for giving too much of herself away. "Don't you just feel like you can breathe again?" She asked daring to hazard a nervous glance his way.

He caught it and he knew that deep down she was still trying to work out the logistics of this whole thing. "Hey, it's going to be fine." He soothed as he slipped his hand into hers and gave it a light squeeze.

* * *

><p>The CTU case had gone well. Thank goodness. He had seen what failing to bring about a positive outcome did to her. She took it as a personal hit, as confirmation that she was an inadequate surgeon and she always assumed that if she lost a patient, Hanssen would add another nail to the coffin. What she always forgot was that by its nature as a trauma unit, CTU was sometimes destined for failure. It wasn't her fault and when something did happen, it was because the extent of the trauma was just beyond repair. Also of course, there was the fact that whatever people said about Hanssen, the mysterious Swede harboured a soft spot for Sahira and that meant that his belief in her convictions and ability to run the unit and use it to save lives was almost infallible.<p>

Now, in the calmness of the mid afternoon, _all was quiet on the Western Front_. They had done battle with the world again and for a few moments, there was peace. In a while he would have to go and ensure that Sam Thomson was prepped for theatre but right now, he could just sit and wait for Sahira to come back from changing out of her bloody scrubs.

* * *

><p>"I'll see you in theatre." Greg told Sam, a slightly willowy, thin man of eighty years. "You'll be fine." He assured the man, who did not seem convinced.<p>

He rubbed some hand gel onto his skin after replacing Sam's obs chart at the foot of the bed. He had changed into fresh scrubs and the only thing left to do was head to theatre, which he was on his way to doing, when one of the temp nurses he had never seen before caught up to him.

"Mr Douglas?" She asked uncertainly and he nodded.

"Yeah that's me, what can I do for you?" He asked politely knowing that Mr. Thomson was probably in the prep room now, awaiting his arrival before general anaesthetic could be administered.

"There's a phone call for you at the desk, apparently your mobile is switched off." The nurse replied.

No kidding, it wasn't like he was at work or anything he thought to himself, deciding to keep his bawdy sarcasm private.

"Can you ask them to call me back in about two hours? I'm just taking Mr. Thomson into theatre." He told her, mildly annoyed at this inconvenient interruption.

"She said you'd say you were busy at work, she says you always say you're..." She paused and blushed in embarrassment at having spoken out of turn. "Busy at work." She finished quietly, avoiding eye contact.

"Well can you tell 'her' I'm not supposed to take personal calls at work."He replied waspishly, wondering who this mysterious 'she' was.

"I'm sorry Mr Douglas but she said if you said that, I should tell you it's Mary, she said - and I quote- 'that ought to get him moving'." She replied and she watched as the surgeon's face paled.

"Are you alright?" She asked as she watched him begin to retreat back up the corridor.

"Thanks erm..." He didn't know her name he realised.

"Sarah." She supplied as he began to break into a run. "Wait, Mr Douglas, what about the patient?" She asked, her tone panicked.

"Page Miss Shah, page anyone - just please, sort it." He instructed as he tore towards the ward again.

* * *

><p>He stared at the phone with its handset rested against the desk for a couple of seconds before he plucked up the courage to pick it up.<p>

"Mum? What happened?" He hardly thought that was the best way to open a conversation with the woman he hadn't seen or spoken to for over five years but he knew, if she was calling there had to be a reason.

"Oh Gregory." He lilting Dublin accent transcended the distance. "Oh love, come quickly, please come now." She told him and her voice shook before it cracked and gave way to her tears.

The phone hit the cradle with a bang and even this sound was not enough to pull him from his reverie. He felt numb, hollow somehow and although his emotions bubbled threateningly, he could not express them. In seconds he had become a shell and the only thing he could do, the only thought which motivated him, was getting to Jac's office.

His footsteps sounded heavy on the linoleum and his legs felt as if they supported him in a similar way to the way jelly supported ice cream. Somehow he made it there though and within ten minutes he was in a cab home.

After collecting a few supplies and his passport, he was on his way in a cab again, this time to the airport and towards home - a place he had not been in a long time.

* * *

><p>He had no real recollection of his arrival, he could not even remember the flight and he simply felt his feet stumbling towards the arrivals gate and baggage collection. He did not even have the strength of mind to be sarcastic about the fact that he was just another part of the machine, moving single file through the airport towards the exit, he only focused on moving forward and getting through the crowd.<p>

Soon he was sucked from the suffocating atmosphere of the airport and was sliding into a cab without even realising it. It was raining as he was driven through Galway and the air was thick with a foreboding sort of pressure he always felt when he was here. The weather conditions were triggers for the last time he had been here. It had been raining when he had left here some years ago and he knew that the repetitiveness in this instance was nothing but a bad portent. There had been tears and tantrums and wild anger, there had been pleading, begging and 'please don't goes' and yet, in spite of all this he _had_gone and now that he was back everything had changed.

He had given the driver the address, but as they made their way from the airport across the rolling, rough and romantic countryside, he began to feel less and less ready to face it. As they approached the familiar street he felt panic rise within him and as in the old days, he spotted -as if by some work of miracle- the one place which could offer him salvation.

"Could you pull in here please?" He asked and the driver did not ask why before indicating and coming to a halt. Greg murmured his thanks and paid the fair before heading inside.

* * *

><p>Pushing open that heavy, painted oak door was like opening a door in his mind to a place filled with memories he had never wanted to reopen. How many nights had he come here hoping to find the answer at the bottom of his glass? How many times had his mind become fuzzy and his speech slurred with the efforts of trying to erase his pain and how many times had he been escorted out onto the cold, lonely street by the firm steady hand whose voice had told him 'it'll be alright son'? Too many to count. That was why when he had scraped himself off the pavement and sobered up vowing to be better than this and to make a difference, he had promised himself he would never return. It was just so saddening to think that he had come to the same realisation his mother had - that for Greg Douglas, cardio-thoracic surgeon, there was only one thing that could bring him back here and now, even that was gone.<p>

The old place hadn't changed, the light bracket opposite the door still needed fixing and in the left hand corner of the large space, old Moira Patterson still sat waiting for Tommy to get home from the mine which had become his grave. Greg advanced into the gloom, feeling uncomfortable as pairs of eyes turned his way - some familiar, some not so - as they scrutinised this strange and yet familiar man in their midst. He got to the bar and was unsurprised to find that much as little else had change, neither had the landlord- Ian, the steadying, reassuring voice of his youth.

The older man observed him in silence, seemingly trying to discern whether he really did recognise him despite all the ways he had changed or whether in fact it was a trick of the light.

"Hello Ian." He tried to keep his voice warm and full despite the rising emptiness.

"Gregory? Greg Douglas? Well I never thought I'd see the day. Look at you." He commented, appraising the well put together, professional young man in front of him and trying to compare this image to that of the misguided youth he had known, his hair almost touching his shoulders and his biker jacket and boots looking menacing.

"You haven't changed." Greg murmured watching the old man smile at him with affection.

"Well I can't say the same for you. Your Ruth's always telling me how well it's going for you. You know, your Da would have been proud."

"Yeah well, someone had to make a name for the Douglases." He replied through slightly gritted teeth. This was the danger with coming here, having old wounds opened.

"Well I'm glad it was you son, oh and Greg, I'm assuming the reason you're back is..." He made to continue but Greg held up his hand to stop him, murmuring "Guinness please" roughly, not wanting to go there right now.

"Right you are. There you go and Greg, I really am sorry." Ian replied, placing the drink in front of him before moving further down the bar and attempting to polish dried in ring marks from the surface.

He was on his third pint when the heavy door was pushed open again. He did not turn to look at who entered because he assumed it could never be anyone he knew, but within seconds he felt a presence slide onto the stool next to him and smelt the familiar scent of the perfume she hadn't changed since she had been given her first bottle on her sixteenth birthday.

* * *

><p>"So it is true then Moira wasn't seeing a ghost, you really have come back. Mind, I suppose you did confuse the poor dear with this." She slid her hand into his short hair and ruffled it affectionately.<p>

"You've had me watched?" He mumbled, mild humour in his voice.

"A lady must have her spies but I should have known you'd come here first- old habits." She replied warmly.

"Hello Ruth." He sighed, turning towards his older sister and greeting her with affection.

"Come here little brother." She smiled as she held her arms open for him. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her slender frame in close, grateful that she had not changed. She had the same blondish brown hair and the same smile lines he remembered from the last time he had seen her and she still felt like she was clinging to him for support despite her four superior years. He knew it must be tough on her, assuming the role of matriarch in a family whose true mother figure was weak and inept and he was sorry, especially now but he had had to get away, it had been escape or nothing for him and he had chosen escape.

"I'm glad you came Greg, Mum and..." He cut her off quickly.

"Don't you dare say 'Dad' - that man is not my father."

"Greg..."

"Don't look at me like that, you know how I feel about him." He told her brusquely.

"Still Mum'll be glad you came." Ruth sighed in defeat.

"Yeah well I didn't come for Mum, I came for... Wren." He told her, his voice shaking as he voiced that name.

"Greg, no one has called her by that name for years. It was you always filling Saoirse's head with dreams - it was you who got her mad on saving animals, lord knows you're the reason she was in veterinary school. That name didn't ever do her any good - your little wren-bird, you only ever managed to fill her head with ideas above her station. She wasn't invincible like you made her, she was a screw up." Ruth told him in an admonishing tone, her words crueller than she intended.

* * *

><p>He was quiet for a moment as he contemplated this, hating how harshly his sister spoke and his subsequent silence was not for want of words it was more to do with the fact that he wasn't sure how to respond to her without causing a huge scene. Saoirse was his youngest and favourite sibling, he wasn't going to lie about that. The only thing was, she wasn't exactly a Douglas. Daniel, their father, had died as a result of a weakness in his heart, a weakness some thought that came from loving his children too much. They had been happy – his father, his mother, Ruth, Greg and the then five year old Caleb - his only other brother, a real family. They had lived in Dublin all their lives and whilst none of the children had been certifiable geniuses, they had all had a future to look forward to. Then suddenly death had struck them. His father had been taken from them most cruelly and everyone had started to lose their forward thinking direction. Ruth forsook university and Greg had descended slowly in every way – socially, morally... if there was ever trouble you could bet your life Gregory Douglas's name would be attached to the news report or the more successful gossip-vine at the local pub. Fearing the worst and assuming that it was the lack of male role model which had caused his loss of control, Mary had sought solace. She had always been a woman who had been validated by her position in relation to Daniel and now she sought his replacement. He had come in the form of Padriac Walsh. The epitome of an Irish lout. Rotund, red-faced and ruddy. He was hulking mass of a man and had the typically fiery red hair one associated with Ireland and the temper to match. After his mother had rushed into a hushed ceremony and had become a Walsh, it hadn't taken long for the pretence to melt away. The whole family had been uprooted from the happiness they had found in Dublin and were relocated to Galway. It was not only the change in location they suffered but a change in their stepfather's temperament. He had always had that throbbing threat about him but it had manifested itself against Mary. The three children would lay awake at night listening as he tortured their darling mother and all of them had felt helpless. It hadn't been long before he had tired of using Mary as his punching bag and soon he turned to Ruth. Although at the time he had only been fifteen, Greg would often take the beating for her – in a desperate and mostly futile attempt to protect his big sister and to give his stepfather a place to direct his anger which wouldn't harm those he cared about most.<p>

The drinking had started then, he would coerce older boys into buying him cheap vodka, gin and anything else he get his hands on and it had helped. Not that it really ever had but to his fifteen year old self it had seemed to be the only thing which offered him solace. Late at night, the young Greg would sit awake plotting how to get his family safely away but now that the insurances from Daniel's death had been gambled away by Paddy, there was no money with which to do this. The situation had become desperate, to the point that one night when Greg had come home from school he had had to practically scrape his poor, battered mother from the floor and nurse her bruises, wiping away her tears all the while.

Then suddenly everything changed again, because his mother had fallen pregnant and Paddy's mood began to improve. It appeared that his wife was not so useless after all. This child would be good and strong, not snivelling like his three pathetic step children. Then nine months later Saoirse was born and there was no hint of the disappointment he displayed towards the three of them. Paddy had fallen in love with her the minute she was born and suddenly, all was right in the world. The beatings had stopped and whilst he rarely acknowledged the other children, he no longer made their lives a misery and they lived in relative happiness.

It was not difficult to love Saoirse and Greg was just as guilty of that emotion. He doted on her, protected and encouraged her and he loved her with all his heart. Unfortunately, as Saoirse grew and became increasingly beautiful, so her father's interest in her turned from the parental to the dark and Greg had watched with suspicious and worried eyes as he saw their relationship begin to change. He would watch as the beautiful, illustrious little fireball that was his sister cowered in front her father becoming less the Ancient Gaelic Princess she could easily have been and more the terrified builder's daughter.

He should have always known. He knew that now. He had seen the signs even if his immature eyes had been naive enough not to interpret them correctly, he should have fought harder to protect her from the sense of impending doom which surrounded her. But he had been too late, they all had.

* * *

><p><em>He remembered it like it was yesterday, the sound of the door clicking rousing him from his sleep. He had gotten out of bed and dressed quickly, following the sound of footsteps as bare skin slapped against the hard wood – all the way to the garden. He hung back for a while watching his beautiful sister as she sank onto the marshy surface of the grass and bent attentively over something close to her. After a few moments he ventured towards her, crouching silently next to the twelve year old and watching her inherent tenderness. <em>

_There in her hands laid a wren, tiny and limp as she carefully strapped its wing with what looked to be lolly sticks and bits of rag. She wiped her running nose quickly, seemingly unaware of his presence, until she spoke. _

"_She couldn't fly you know and if she can't fly then she can't escape... I saw her from the window." She murmured in her mystical voice but he could not help but notice the way it shook. _

"_What are you doing up so late hmm?" He had tried to play the older brother but she did not respond as she usually did when he tried to be stern, there was no pink tongue poked in his direction, no menacing flash in her eyes only silence and soft sobbing. _

"_Saoirse?" He mumbled laying a heavy and supportive hand on her shoulder. _

_After a while she turned towards him and he really got a good look at her. Her red hair was flying wildly around her face which really was no surprise but her face was tear stained and her eyes sad. There was no life there and he hated that. As he studied her he noticed something unmistakable, the tear in the shoulder of her night gown and more frighteningly the pool of blood at her lap which could not have come from the tiny bird. _

"_I won't tell, I won't tell. I'll be a good girl, I promise." She whispered clutching his jumper and burying her face in his shoulder as she sobbed. _

"_I'll kill him." He bit out roughly. _

"_Please Greg, please don't hurt my Da. He loves me... he wants to show me how much." She sounded brainwashed but she was smarter than that, he had taught her to be. _

"_This will never happen again." He told her as he scooped her and her little patient into his arms and carried her towards the house and to the safety of a room with a locked door. _

_That image of his darling sister in the dirt had never left him and of course, despite his promises he had been almost powerless to stop the designs of his stepfather. The few times that he had, he had ended up the worse for wear – a broken arm, a fractured rib, internal bleeding- until he realised that Saoirse was lost to him. From that moment on, he had always thought of and called her his little wren-bird, or mostly just Wren because she too had been unable to escape. It held meaning for them both and it told her that she was never alone. _

_Years later, in a smoky bar not dissimilar to the one he found himself in now, she had told him that she had saved that bird and countless others like it because she couldn't save herself. Even at twenty one, she had sat there with a cool calmness which had verged on cruelty and told him that one day she would be like her wren, she would become Wren and there would be no stopping her then._

* * *

><p>This thought caused a mist of tears in his eyes and he bit them back.<p>

"Don't you dare make me the villain. I was the only one who ever took any notice of her; I was the only one who never tried to pretend that _he_ didn't hurt her. Someone had to give her some dreams." He was shouting now.

"Saoirse was a fantasist, everyone knew it. What she said about Dad – anyone can see that it was all lies..." Ruth did not seem sure.

"That man is no father of yours and to call himself her father... He isn't worthy of that name and don't you tell me it was lies, I know you heard it. Wren told me last time I spoke to her that he attacked her the night of the anniversary dinner. You were there that night Ruth and she said you saw her in the bathroom, throwing up in revulsion and you walked right by. That was six months ago, she was almost twenty two and she still couldn't stop him and you, you just let it happen. What kind of a sister does that make you how could you just lie there and pretend, how can you dishonour her like that?" He asked in genuine disbelief.

"I... I..." She stammered.

"_You _did nothing. _Nothing_." He told her before storming away and heading for the door.

Ruth followed clumsily behind him as he charged out of the pub and took the ten minute walk to the house they had lived in as children here, a place which had not changed and therefore caused all the old emotions to rise up within him.

"Wait Greg, wait. There's something you should know." She told him desperately.

"What?"

"This wasn't his fault... Wren was using – heroine. She was smacked up Greg, it was an O.D. You of all people should know about that, you are a doctor right?"

"So because it was drugs, you think that makes him guiltless? Why the Hell do you think she was using and what gives you the right to call her by that name?"

She was quiet for a moment as she watched him wrench open the gate. "Because she taught me how to be a wren too." She murmured quietly and he felt himself balk.

"What did you just say to me?" He demanded, though he felt like crying.

"She told me what you said, that she should hold onto the thought that one day she would escape. It helped her and she used it to help me too." She sniffed back her own tears and suddenly he understood. She hadn't helped Wren because she couldn't because there was no one to help her either...

"No, no, no..." He thundered as he threw open the door and marched into the house.

* * *

><p>His mother was in the kitchen when she heard the commotion and she came to see what it was all over. She should have known of course, but ignorance had been her practice since the death of her beloved. Life was easier that way.<p>

"Oh Greg, oh love you're here." She tried to smile through her tears.

"Where is he?" Greg demanded.

"Where's who dear?" She asked. "Caleb will be here tomorrow, he's coming all the way from Coventry you know... for your sister." She told him shakily her thoughts distracted by the rage in his eyes.

"Not Caleb... Paddy. Where is he? Don't treat me like an idiot."

Mary hesitated a moment and shot a nervous glance in Ruth's direction, she watched with a sinking feeling as her daughter nodded slowly.

"Well now that we're all acquainted with the whole truth you want to tell me why you never did anything about this. Were you really that spineless?" He asked angrily.

There was shocked silence for a moment which became filled with some raucous laughter from the living room.

"Don't bother." Greg muttered as he stamped towards the room.

"Mum you've got to stop him, he'll kill him." Ruth told her as they watched him go.

* * *

><p>Paddy looked completely pathetic sitting in his armchair, a Guinness at his side and his ulcerated feet elevated before him. He had shrunk in the years of his step son's absence and Greg now towered over him. This made him feel empowered for the first time since he was fifteen.<p>

"I thought that was your voice boy." He spoke with a mirth Greg despised.

"I am no boy old man." He replied resolutely.

"Oh no?" There was menace in his tone.

"If you could square up to me like a man, then maybe I'd show you but I don't make a habit of picking on people who are smaller than me."

"Come near me and I'll knock your block off." He promised viciously.

"I'm not interested in your threats anymore, I just wanted you to know this was your fault. Saoirse is dead because of you."

"Little slut was good for nothing, an addict..." Paddy muttered as Greg had started to retreat.

He turned quickly when the words reached his ears and was on his stepfather in no time, his hand gripped tightly around his neck and squeezing.

"You want to say that again you low life?" He threatened.

Paddy laughed deeply, although the sound was strangled as he fought for air. "What're you going to do Gregory? Kill a dying man?"He laughed as if daring his stepson to do it.

Greg's grip loosened but his hand didn't leave his throat as he processed this information. It was like retribution, but it had come too late – Wren was already lost to him.

"Gregory!" His mother exclaimed rushing forward and trying to pry her son's vice like grip from her husband's throat. If she was honest, this sight was one she had silently dreamed of several times – how she had longed and still did especially now - to be free of him, not simply for her own sake but for that of her children. But Saoirse was gone and she would not have another child lost to her.

"You honestly think I would? He's not worth the time or the effort and besides – he's already taken the best of us, I'll be damned if he'll take me too. I have something so good in my life now and I will not let his black heart take that from me the way he took Saoirse." He announced letting him go with a fling of his wrist.

"Pretty young one is she?" His stepfather goaded and although he wanted to rip him limb from limb he did not. Instead he began to retreat.

"I could do it you know, don't doubt that. I just know its better this way – slow and painful, the way you made my sister suffer. It's nothing more than what you deserve." He told him, hating that he had inadvertently dragged Sahira into all of this.

He walked out of the living room, grabbing his bag and not stopping until he was halfway down the road. When he got a safe enough distance away he sank down the nearest walk and crouched down, his mind reeling with all the new information he had been told today, tears pricked in his eyes and his throat burned.

* * *

><p>He waited several minutes unsure of what to do now. Should he just go home? That would be the easy thing to do but he owed it to Wren to stay and he meant what he had told Ruth – he was there for her and no one else. His phone beeped and he looked down at the screen and what he saw made him want to crush it in his hand.<p>

New message from Ruth: _Please, set her free._

He gritted his teeth and typed back_: I always did._

Before he got up and began to walk down the road.

* * *

><p>He had been in the peeling, fading bed and breakfast for around twenty minutes, his cuffs undone and his tears flowing freely. He never cried, he hadn't been that weak since he was a boy but now it was a different story. He seemed to be crying Wren out, letting her go and yet he felt worse and worse. He knew it was selfish but he wanted her here, he needed to feel that he could help her. How many times had he tried to persuade her to move to Holby and to finish her veterinary studies there? But she had a mind of her own and short of bundling her onto a plane, there was little he could do. He knew he could have gone to the authorities but he also knew that she was a grown woman and the police would simply say it was her own responsibility to report any inappropriate behaviour or abuse. So now he had to live with the fact that he, the most delinquent member of his family had escaped, whilst Wren, the girl pure of soul had died.<p>

He laid on the worn quilt cover and he felt himself wishing that he had Sahira here with him. In much the same way as he could be her strength, he drew a similar grounding from her and having that distance between them was hard. He needed her sobering presence and yet he knew it was best if she didn't ever see this side of his life or the person he became when he was here. Already he had slipped into old habits, had been influenced by the poison of his stepfather and he didn't want her to know him like that. That didn't mean he wouldn't have appreciated her body wound around his, holding him together – not that they had even reached that stage, or in fact any other. Just as he was thinking this night would be endless, his phone came to life and as he looked down at the display, he didn't feel quite so alone anymore.

* * *

><p>"Sahira." He murmured her name quietly as he answered.<p>

"_Greg, Oh my God. I've been so worried, I've been trying to call you all day." _She sounded panicked, he hated that he had made her feel like that.

"I'm sorry, busy day." It was feeble, but honestly, aside from Ruth's message, he had not checked his phone. He knew when he checked there would be numerous calls from her there.

"_Are you alright? I mean, of course you're not alright, but I mean are you alright?" _She sounded like this platitude was uncomfortable, inappropriate somehow.

"I'm fine." He lied.

"_Where are you? After Mr Thomson's surgery I realised you had gone but I had no idea where, I asked Jac but all she said was that you had to go..." _She sounded worried.

"It's nothing honestly." He continued the facade.

"_Then tell me nothing." _She encouraged.

"Sahira..."

"_Greg, I thought we agreed, if we're going to do this, then we at least have to be honest with each other, if we can't be honest with everyone else."_ She murmured dejectedly.

"If I thought it would do any good then I would tell you, but can you trust me when I say there are some things about me that are best kept hidden, there are parts of my life you don't need to see?"

"_What is it Greg? Is there a fourth person in all of this, is that it_?" She asked sadly, knowing that she was hardly in a position to object if there was.

"Sahira when will you believe that it is you that I want to be with? I promise you if there was another person I would tell you. I have always known about Rafi and it would only be fair that you knew if the same situation applied with me. I swear to you there is no one else, this isn't about us."

"_Then what is it? You can tell me anything. We're still friends aren't we, you and I? I need to know that whatever else we might be now or might become, we're always going to be there for each other."_ She told him, trying to encourage him to open up.

"You wouldn't want to know."

"_Let me be the judge of that. Look, if you really don't want to tell me about what's going on, then can you at least tell me where you are?" _She tried to soothe.

"Would it sound crazy if I told you I'm in Ireland?" He asked with a small laugh.

"_Oh Greg, what happened?"_ She asked knowing that if he was in Ireland it had to be his family. _"Is it your Mum?" _She queried when he didn't reply.

"No, no not Mum... Mum is... Mum. No, it's my sister... my beautiful sister." He started but his voice began to crack.

"_Your sister?"_ She sounded surprised, she had every right to be, he had never disclosed his family situation to her or anyone else before.

"Yeah, see I told you there's a lot of stuff you don't know, or don't need to know I knew I should have kept this from you..."

"_I didn't say that. Is she Ok?" _She asked somewhat hopefully, knowing that the chances that there wasn't something wrong were slim.

"She died Sahira, Wre- Saoirse is gone." Her told her, his voice full of emotion as he made the deliberate choice not to disclose his affectionate name for his sister.

"_Oh Greg I'm so..."_ She paused hating the platitude.

"I know, me too." He told her, hearing his own voice break as he allowed himself to feel the emotions he would never express with anyone else.

"_How did... how did it happen?" _She asked knowing it was a loaded question.

"There's a long story that goes with Saoirse but the reason she's gone now is because she was a user... an addict... _heroine_." The words shook as he felt his throat become thick with tears.

"_Heroine? Oh God."_ She murmured knowing there really wasn't anything else she could say. "_Why didn't you mention her before?"_ She asked more out of curiosity than anything else.

"I didn't want you to see the bad parts of my life.." He paused and drew in a breath before he reconsidered what he had just said. " I didn't mean that she was a bad person – that sounds awful, she was the best of us and she was worth something. She was so _good _... I just meant, I don't like what being here does to me, there's memories... things I don't want to face." He admitted.

She knew she wanted to tell him that he was good too, that he was worth something – to her, to the hospital. But she knew that there must have been a reason for him to have such a low opinion of himself and she could tell by the tone in his voice that he didn't want to discuss it now. That was something she was prepared to accept for as long as he needed her to._"Ok, so we don't have to talk about it. You're home for... the funeral?"_ She asked.

"Oh God, when you say it like that..."

"_I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be tactless, I just wanted to make sure you'll be alright over there..."_ She murmured.

"No, I just mean flying over here I didn't stop to think, this is real, I thought that when I got here she'd be in the bar we always met in, smiling at her trickery, but this is real. She's gone." He was crying now, the first proper tears he had shed in years.

She sighed heavily on the other end of the phone_ "I wish there was something I could say to make it better Greg, but I know nothing can. More than that I wish I was there with you, to hold you... to kiss you." _She lowered her voice when she said this last bit and he felt a little thrill despite his sadness, it was just nice to know that his feelings for her weren't one sided.

"Where are you?" He asked then, needing the change of subject.

"_I'm still on shift, I pulled a double since you had to leave."_ She replied.

"You must be exhausted, I'm sorry to drop you in it like this."

"_Hey, don't you worry about me, frankly I'd rather be here than at home, the thought of another fight is just not what I need right now. At least I can be of use here."_ She told him, sounding physically and mentally tired.

"It's really good to hear your voice, you were exactly what I needed after today." He told her honestly.

"When is the funeral?" She asked delicately.

"Tomorrow. My brother Caleb flies in first thing and then the service begins at three." He paused, processing this information for himself. "I don't know if I can do this Sahira." He breathed.

"_I know that nothing I can tell you will help, but you are one of the strongest people I know. If you love Saoirse as much as you sound like you do, then that emotion alone will be enough to guide you. I'll be thinking of you, I promise you won't be alone." _She told him with ardent passion.

"I don't feel it so much anymore, how is it that if I close my eyes I can feel you in the room with me?" He asked, mildly awe struck at her ability to soothe his tortured soul.

"_I'm in your heart, that's why."_ She replied and she sounded shocked by this realisation herself- it was true, this was the reason they had such a close connection. There was little point in denying their feelings, it was what made them work so well as friends and as potentially something more...

They spent some time saying their goodbyes and she wished him well, or as well as he could be under the circumstances and after she promised to call him tomorrow, they reluctantly hung up. He could have talked to her forever, the smooth richness in her voice, the comfort he could take from her measured words. She could transport him to a place he could never reach without her and she took away the pain. Speaking to her was a sweet distraction from the impending grief he knew he would become engulfed in.

* * *

><p>His hands shook as he stood in the mirror trying to fix his tie. It was twenty past two and they had to get be at the church for three o clock. For some reason, all alone in his hotel room with only his thoughts and the realisation that like it or not he was going to have to occupy the same pew as Paddy for company, even the simple act of dressing himself seemed to be a step beyond his capability.<p>

"I'm doing this for you Wren, I hope you appreciate that." He spoke to himself and the ghost of his sister as slowly, he managed to get his tie looking something like it was supposed to.

This afternoon would be hard, not least because at its end, he would have one less sister and the world would be that little bit darker. But on a deeper level, tolerating his family after hearing the shockwaves which still resounded in his mind, was going to be hard. The only way he could get through it all was to think about Wren, the way he always had, because in the end, any amount of pain was worth suffering if it made his angel smile where she rested...

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><p>The air pressed in around him, hot and heavy despite the early month in the year and he knew it was the result of the insurmountable pressure placed upon him right now as the hearse drew to a stop and he prepared to fulfil his role as pallbearer. He glanced across at his brother as he bore the weight as directed and saw that Caleb's face was stained with the tears that somehow despite all the emotion of the previous day, Greg found himself unable to cry. They shared a small sad look of understanding before they started on their slow journey of respect.<p>

"I love you Wren-bird." He whispered as they set her down, the beautiful, vulnerable little girl, amidst a sea of stricken faces.

He slid into the pew taking care to ensure that he was at the opposite end to Paddy as he listened to the reverend begin the usual spiel he had probably given to hundreds of families and tried not to think of how much he was sucking the light out of Saoirse's existence.

Whatever his feelings about the faith he had had as a boy and however much he wanted to shout that he did not feel like celebrating Wren's life when all he wanted to do was hide away in a dark hole and flip through his memories of his little sister, nothing could compare to the amount of hatred that manifested itself within him as he watched Padriac Walsh hobble up to Wren's coffin and began a drunken, slurring speech about his 'darling, darling fireball Saoirse'. He was just about to lunge over the pew and flatten this snivelling excuse of a man where he stood, when he felt a hand on the crook of his elbow.

* * *

><p>He froze then, not simply from the effects of the preventative action but also from the effect of the familiar, heady scent of perfume which caught his attention. After a moment, he dared to cast a glance to his right and his breath was almost stolen.<p>

"What...?" He murmured almost imperceptibly as he adopted an expression of confusion.

"Ssh." She soothed, placing a quick kiss to his jacketed shoulder as if to silence his questions, all of which she tried to assure him, she would answer later.

"It's Ok..." She told him in her hypnotic voice. "I've got you." She finished as slowly she slid her arm downward and laced her fingers through his, closing them around his hand as she held him together.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze as she held him together whilst he fell apart. Right now there wasn't much that he was sure of – not truth, not justice, not even the retribution of his evil stepfather's imminent death, but he was certain that Sahira Shah was an amazing woman and with her clinging to his hand, he knew he could never feel alone. He wasn't ready to deal with everything else he knew would come from this mess but right now, having her support was all that seemed to matter... For the first time in his life, Greg Douglas let himself lean on someone and that just happened to be the woman he loved. With her help, after years of denying that this was bound to happen, he could finally say goodbye to his Galway girl...

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><p><strong>There it is, I hope that you enjoyed it. I'll bet it wasn't what you were expecting given the last chapter, but I did say this story would deal with the unexpected and the more controversially mature rated subjects which present themselves in life. I hope no one felt too unsettled by this one and that you will let me know what you thought, whatever that might be. <strong>

**I hope that you didn't mind me taking liberties with the background for Greg but I wanted it to add another dimension to the story which intensified the emotions. I also hope it wasn't too long for you. The next chapter will go back to being more traditionally Greg/ Sahira centred.**

**Right so the only thing left to say is that I hope that I caught all the edits, if not forgive me. **

**Keep reading, I appreciate it so much. **

**Oh and P.S sorry it's a day late - crazy life!**

**Love, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	5. No Sunshine

**Hey lovely people, **

**So following the last chapter and the somewhat unexpected nature of the twist I incorporated, I was thinking of picking up where I left off. I hope you enjoy it and will let me know what you thought. **

**Thank you so much for your lovely comments I really do appreciate them. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics.**

* * *

><p>He was almost silhouetted against the dark sky and she could barely make out the form of his body since the rain was doing a pretty good job at obscuring him from her view and playing odd distortion tricks with her mind. Nevertheless, as she trudged her way across the marshy grounds, she found him exactly where she had expected him to be. Even though she was sure he must have heard her as her heels sank into the mud and she struggled to pull them out again, his back remained upright and he stayed fixed forward. She might have left him to his thoughts if he hadn't already been out here an hour, if it hadn't been pouring with rain and if she wasn't so worried about him. But it was not in her nature to leave a person when they needed her most so she sank to the ground, hardly giving a second thought to what the mud would do to her Karen Millen. The only thing that mattered was that he knew she was there and that none of this was his fault. Nothing else was important. Not the tear in her black coat, not the ladder in her tights and not the sprained wrist she would have to find some excuse for. There was a monster here, there was no denying that. She had seen him and witnessed his wrath, but his name was <em>not<em> Greg Douglas.

She was not afraid of him, nor would she ever be, but still as she reached out towards him, she moved slowly, as she might if she were trying to contain a wild animal, _a wren maybe_, in her hands. She had known him to be volatile and she was aware that a sudden intrusion into his privacy like this could startle him and she did not wish to be the cause of any regret for either of them. She closed her fingers gently around his shoulder and gave him a slight squeeze. He did startle a little but the impact of her contact was much less than it could have been if she had acted any faster. He did not turn towards her or acknowledge her at first, his eyes remaining fixed down into the hole in the ground and on the white coffin which was still exposed within it.

"You're still here." He murmured in disbelief.

"I am. Where else would you expect me to go?" She asked, her voice low and soothing.

"I just don't understand why." He told her honestly.

"I'm here because I thought that this is where I should be. You sounded so sad on the phone and I didn't want you to face this alone." She replied with equal honesty.

"I didn't ask for you to come." He was not accusing her of encroaching on a private moment, just reminding her of the truth.

"I know. I wanted to be here for you, the way you've been there for me so many times." She told him knowing exactly where he was going with this.

"You understand why I didn't ask you to come don't you? You know why I didn't tell you? I didn't want you to see the person I become when I'm here, I didn't want..." He paused, turning towards her, "this to happen." He finished, gently lifting her left wrist which, he did not fail to notice, was wrapped in a tight compression bandage.

She did not say anything for a moment, instead choosing to indulge in the first sign of his acknowledgement of her presence. After a while though, she knew she had to reply, if only to save him fearing the worst. "Greg, listen to me. This..." She paused shaking her wrist a little and wincing at the pain this caused her. "Was not your fault. You couldn't have predicted what was going to happen. It was _not _your fault Ok?" She tried to get him to believe her but she knew self-forgiveness was not in his nature.

"But that's just it Sahira_, I_ could. I knew this about him. I didn't tell you about him because I was trying to protect you." He insisted.

"Protect me? From what? This place? Your mother? Your stepfather? Your family in general? What happened to Saoirse? Or yourself? Is that what I'm really supposed to be afraid of and protected from?" She could have been angry, perhaps should have been but his sadness radiated in his very aura and she couldn't add to that, so she posed her anger as questions and hoped that he would answer them.

"What do you mean 'what happened to Saoirse?' What do you know?" He asked a little more defensively than he wished to.

"I talked to Ruth after... what happened. I knew there was something you weren't telling me. I knew you wouldn't hide it from me if it wasn't important, if it didn't hurt you too much to talk about it, if you _couldn't_ tell me. I knew that because we don't hide things from each other and I understand." She assured him.

"Sahira..." He made to protest, but she stopped him.

"I understand and I think that you..." She paused, shuffling around a little and placing a hand on his cheek to which she applied just enough pressure to ensure that they were looking at each other.

She found her breath was temporarily stolen and she couldn't seem to find her voice as she looked at him. His hair was plastered to his head and water dripped freely over his skin, his eyes were so sad she could barely hold his gaze, but that was not the thing which struck her most. There on his lip was the remnant of the last battle he had fought for Saoirse and it made her incredibly proud and saddened. He shifted under her touch a little and she was pulled from her mesmerism.

She felt her mouth quirk upward ever so slightly and she felt guilty but she couldn't help it. She never could around him, he arrested her heart and she never wanted to give it back.

"You are... freezing." She murmured before she even knew what she had said and she only became aware of the ridiculousness of her honesty when she heard his low, rumbling laugh.

"What?" She asked running her thumbs across his cheekbones.

"All that build up... the long, lingering looks, for 'you're freezing'?" He laughed even though it felt wrong.

"Well... I was going to say you're amazing, but freezing seemed a more immediate description." She told him with mirth.

"Amazing? Sahira there is nothing amazing about me, about what I did. I retaliated and it still didn't bring her back." He was crying now, she could tell since the tracks of his tears slid at a rapidity which rivalled the rain.

"Greg, this is not the wound of a man who fought back, this is the wound of a man who knew when to stop and why." She soothed, letting her fore and middle finger gently caress the cut on his lip. She heard him wince but he did not pull away as they shared the memory of what had happened earlier:

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><p><em>She had clung to him from the moment she had arrived, feeling him lean on her increasingly as they had made their way up the aisle, their heads hung and their tears flowing. It had been hard for her to be surrounded by so much sadness and to be so distanced from its cause. But standing next to him, feeling the way he held her hand like it was the only thing keeping him upright had meant that in some way, through him, she was connected and the only thing which had seemed to matter after that was getting him through this day: sacrificing her own discomfort to help him, the way he had always done with her. <em>

_She had let him guide her towards one of the funeral cars and it had been as she was about to slide in that she had felt an unfamiliar hand, a vulgarly warm hand, settle on her backside. She had tried to pull away but the more she had, the more vice like his grip had seemed to become. _

"_So you're the something good in our Gregory's life? You don't want a boy like him; you want yourself a real man." He had told her, his breath hot and putrid with the smell of alcohol on her cheek. _

_She had twisted herself then, about to defend herself with harsh words, to tell him where to go when she had felt herself being roughly shunted backward as a thick arm settled between them and they were forced apart. She had never been gladder but she had hated to think what was going to happen next. _

"_Don't. You. Touch. Her." The words had come out in stilted fluency but she felt the strength behind each one._

"_Oh you mean like this?" Paddy had goaded reaching between them and grabbing her by the shoulder, pulling her forward. _

_Greg had flared then, his body becoming somehow larger and acting as a block between her and his step father. _

"_Come on boy, what're going to do?" He had asked and his grip on her had only tightened despite the mass of Greg's body between them. When she had struggled with him she had been thrown roughly backwards, her coat tearing as she fell awkwardly, her tights catching on the shingled ground and her wrist landing awkwardly as her lower body went one way and her upper body twisted away. _

_Greg had lunged for Paddy then but the movement had been misjudged and in the tussle, Paddy had managed to land a fair punch to Greg's mouth, splitting his lip instantly. Sahira had watched with terrified eyes as Greg had drawn his own fist back in order to retaliate. At the last moment before he landed the incapacitating punch to his stepfather's head, she had let out a blood-curdling scream and in response to this, he had turned towards her and she had locked her eyes with his in the way he had always managed to do when she was panicked and needed something from him. It was a look which said 'stay calm and look at me, only me. I have the answer'. _

"_Don't do it Greg, she wouldn't have wanted it this way. You're not that person, you're not him." She had felt like she was begging. _

_His eyes had flared for a moment more and then he had turned towards her, his eyes intensely apologetic. He had reached down and extended his hand to help her up. He had succeeded and she had wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly and crooning words of comfort to him. __He turned back towards Paddy then, his strength suddenly renewed by her embrace. _

"_You will never hurt her again. Do you hear me? Wren got away. You can't be the monster in her nightmares anymore Paddy." He had seemed happy about that, relieved even. _

"_You listen to me boy; you will never be welcome here again. Do you hear? Don't you EVER come back!" Paddy had ordered. _

"_I told you before I am no boy and I will never come here again, don't you worry. I came here for Wren and now there is nothing – nothing" he emphasised this last word with a look at his mother "to cause me ever to come back." He had told them all, disentangling himself from Sahira and marching back towards the grave plot._

_Sahira had been about to follow him when she had felt a softer hand catch in the crook of her elbow. "I think there are some things you should know." Ruth had murmured leading her away from the rest of the family._

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><p>"I'm so sorry." He murmured looking back down at her wrist again.<p>

"No apology needed. From what I hear, you were her hero, you were a hero for them all."

"Then why couldn't I save her? Why is she gone and why didn't I know about Ruth?" He was genuinely stricken and looking for an answer it was impossible for her to give him, but she knew she had to say something to take his pain away.

"Listen to me, I know that you did the very best you could. What Wren went through and what happened to Ruth, it wasn't right, it wasn't fair but short of killing yourself in the process of saving them there was nothing more that you could have done. You saw Wren when she was trapped and you set her free. She was a caged bird Greg and you're the one who released her. She's free now and she'd want you to be too. You released them both, maybe it's time you did the same for yourself."

"I wish I..."

"I know." She murmured, speaking over his continued self-hatred and standing, holding her hand out to him. "Now, you have to come with me. You'll freeze if you sit here any longer so come on... it's time to let her fly." She soothed, pulling him to his feet.

"I don't want to leave her, what if she can't find her way?" He seemed desperate.

"Trust me, she'll know the way." She assured him, closing her hand around his tightly.

"But..."

"Greg no more arguments." She told him, stepping in close and pressing her lips to his, hardly caring about the blood she could taste. This seemed to be the only way she could silence him and if this was what it took, she would kiss him forever.

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><p>He didn't even remember getting into the cab or indeed getting out of it. Entering Ian's pub seemed to be a distant blur and he could hardly even recall stumbling over the threshold of the room they had evidently rented from him. They must have gone through all these motions of course, but he did not, <em>could not <em>remember them. He was too busy taking fortification and sustenance from her kisses, focusing on keeping her mouth exactly where it was - melded with his so that he couldn't even tell where he ended and she began.

The windows misted as he heard her bang the door closed with her good wrist as their heat mixed with the damp coolness of the room. He felt her shiver beneath his touch and it was only then that he became aware of the way his own body quaked. This was, he knew, the result of the transfer from the coldness they had been in to the warmth they now found themselves in and he knew that on top of the awkwardness of her having to explain a sprained wrist when they got home, the fact that they would probably have colds too would be difficult and conspicuous. This was his fault and he regretted not having stayed with her. He should have checked on her injury anyway and in the heat of the moment he hadn't thought of anyone but himself. He just hoped that he could redeem himself somehow. As if she read his mind, she pulled back, somewhat reluctantly from the kiss in order that she could connect with his eyes again.

"Stop thinking so loudly." She murmured smoothing her thumbs across his cheekbones.

"I was thinking about how sorry I am." He admitted.

"I know and I told you already, there is nothing for you to be sorry for. You did the best you could and _you_ didn't hurt me, _you_ tried to protect me, now... I don't know about you but I am freezing." She told him, ringing her dripping curtain of hair out before sliding her hands beneath the lapels of his jacket.

He couldn't say anything, he couldn't even move as her lips reconnected with his and her hands worked deftly to strip him of his jacket. He knew he should probably stop her before they went further than she was ready for, but he was being selfish focusing only on the sensations she could produce with a single touch. The fabric hit the floor in seconds and he stepped backwards as she began to unbutton her own ruined coat and strip out of the sodden material which was giving her a chill. As the coat hit her elbows he grabbed it and held its tattered ruins for a moment.

"It's just a thing Greg... all of this, the coat, the dress, the tights – they're just things and things can be replaced. People can't, _you_ can't." She paused before adding, "you know, that's what I realised – all of it – it's just things... these clothes, my excuses, my wedding band. They're just things and they're getting in the way of you and me... of us." She told him, pressing tiny kisses to his jaw as she reached towards the knot of his tie with slightly shaking hands.

"Sahira..." He paused for a moment before deciding how best to proceed. "Two days... that's all it's been and I haven't been able to spend enough time with you to know whether it's Ok for me to hope. I guess I still can't decide if you're sure this is what you want." He told her, a little embarrassed that he had to say this aloud.

"I'm here aren't I? What more do you want me to do to prove to you that you are what matters to me?" She asked but before he could answer she had an idea, something which she was sure would convince him of her intentions.

She busied herself with loosening his tie and working the buttons on his shirt, her lips never leaving his all the while. She felt her nerves rising within her but still she did not stop. The most important thing right now was silencing any protest he could make so, to this end, she was able to focus all of her attention and nervous energy into kissing him. After a while she rested in his arms.

"I'm tired of pretending Greg, what's the point of denying how we feel anymore?" She asked, reaching behind herself and trying to work the zip on her dress loose. This simple task, something she was accustomed to doing herself since Rafi had long since stopped paying her that kind of attention when she dressed, was more difficult than it should have been and she knew this was a combination of the numbness in her fingers, the nerves fluttering in her stomach and the water which was logged in her dress.

He noticed this immediately and even this small gesture made her smile. It was something seemingly insignificant and yet it reminded her of exactly the kind of man he was.

"Turn around." He whispered, "Let me help you." He finished, kissing the nape of her neck as she slowly revolved for him.

The zip put up some resistance since the rain had already gone to work on it but eventually, his persistence paid off and he was able to help her manipulate herself out of the dress. He was as gentle with her as it was possible to be because he was terrified of hurting her wrist further, but together they succeeded in ridding her of the sodden dress. After a few more moments she had stripped herself out of her shoes and wet tights and then, without either one of them really realising what had happened or how, she was down to her black slip and he was running his hungry eyes over each one of the curves which had been part of his fantasies for months.

"I think... maybe it's your turn now." She whispered, her voice shaking as she reached for the button fastening on his dark trousers.

Somehow, they made it to the bed. She didn't remember how, she didn't even remember the moment when their bodies met, their limbs tangling freely for the first time since their feelings had started to change, or at least to manifest themselves in their true form. All she was aware of was that at some point, they must have reached for one another and ultimately, they must have had the same thought because here they were. She felt Greg's legs hit the foot of the bed and in spite of her usual reserve, she gave him a small shove and held on tightly as he descended towards the mattress.

She wasn't quite sure what was going to happen next. Everything which had happened seemed to suggest the direction they were heading in, but neither one of them had fully undressed. As this thought popped into her head, she realised how mildly ridiculous it sounded. Did they really need to be undressed to drive each other to insanity? Two days ago, he had made her see oblivion simply by removing one item of her clothing, but she wondered if she could do the same for him. Right now the dampness which still lingered on their skin was causing maddening friction between them as their bodies slid against one another and despite the fact that each of them was driven to distraction, neither complained. She pushed herself firmly against him as they adjusted to the inherent awkwardness of their fall and she widened her legs so that she could straddle him comfortably. This proved to be a bad idea, not least because despite the fact that he still wore his boxers, she could feel his very prominent desire and the proximity of his most intimate part of his anatomy to the part of her which possessed her secret self.

She heard the moan which escaped from her own lips as if it was a foreign language as she reacted to the way his hands, rough and slightly calloused from continually holding scalpels and other surgical equipment, slid beneath up her slightly exposed thighs and underneath the slip she wore, desperately seeking out the dampened silk of her skin. She smiled, a throaty giggle releasing from her of its own volition as he crept slowly higher, taking the flimsy silk with him the further he went. She barely recognised herself as the conservative wife and mother she had always been with her husband and fleetingly, she thought of Candice and the reckless abandon with which she had expressed her passion beneath the touch of this man. She could identify with the agency nurse, she now felt, even though his touches thus far had been brief and tentative, that she knew what it meant to truly experience pleasure and passion and she began to embrace this new part of herself - the hidden part- as if it were a part of her which had become lost and then had been miraculously rediscovered. She supposed, on some level that was indeed what had happened.

She had little time to ponder this further before she felt his hands slide around her lower back, bypassing their opportunity to plunder her inner most self as they had done two days ago and instead using the advantage this new position gave him to pull her closer, to throw her off balance and cause her to fall forward. At the last moment she slammed her right wrist to save herself from falling directly into him. She put all of her weight onto her forearm and tried to regain her balance. He wasted no time in removing his hands from their prior exploration and pulling her jaw towards his. It was then that she realised what he had wanted and then that she realised that in her shock, she had played right into his hands. She pouted a little and he laughed. This only caused her pout to deepen and his laugh to extend.

"Don't be angry." He murmured, his voice still thick with laughter as he reached up, brushing her damp hair from her eyes and pulling her lips towards his.

"You." She began, kissing him deeply and then moving down his body, her lips brushing every inch of his exposed torso "are wicked. You tricked me." She commented, her tone mimicking offence.

"I know, I am very, very bad and I am very sorry." He murmured unconvincingly as his abdomen contracted violently. This involuntary action was caused by the fact that all of a sudden, she had moved lower than he had expected her to, her lips blazing a downward trail towards a very dangerous place.

* * *

><p>Whilst she tended him with kisses in this way, he was careful to ensure that his hands never left her body. He remembered the way, even as recently as the beginning of this week, when he had longed for an excuse, any excuse to touch her – to hold her hand, to wrap his arms around her and pull her close, to brush her hair from her eyes when she was in a frenzy and to kiss her, the one time when she thought only of him – and now that she was here and they were miles from home and from the suspicious gazes of their colleagues and her husband, he intended to show her just how much the ability to touch her really meant to him.<p>

He traced the jut of her jaw he kissed the scented hollow of her neck, he pressed his fore and middle finger to the elegantly crafted path from the base of her throat all the way to the deep and plunging valley between her breasts. He used the heels of his hands to sculpt out her curvaceous waist and hips and he closed his eyes in order to commit them to his memory. He kissed her closed eyes and thumbed away the single tear which fell down her cheek as she began to realise how seriously he felt about her. His fingers smudged their way through the red lipstick she wore, parting her lips and his kisses swallowed her moans hungrily. All the while he fought desperately to control the explosion inside of his own body, something he felt was imminently approaching, particularly since every time he reached for her, every time he touched her, he inadvertently shifted her position and she ended up grinding closer to his desperate desire. After what felt like hours of trying to contain his reaction, he could not help the feral groan which emitted itself into the room. His breath was momentarily stolen as he realised that no woman had ever caused him to let go of himself so much as Sahira had been able to and they hadn't even done anything more than touch and kiss: they had only just begun, this was simply a hint of what they could achieve together. His mind reeled at the thought of what it would be like to finally make love to her, to feel her body mould with his, to feel her surrender herself entirely to him.

As her moans became more frantic he lifted his upper body forcing her into more of sitting position as his tongue delved between her restlessly parted lips and thrust its way hard into her mouth. He only hoped that this conveyed just how much he wanted her and indeed what he wanted to do _to_ her. She drew back when oxygen became a necessity once more and he heard her murmur the words "Oh God" before her shaking hand went to the strap on her slip.

He watched it slide down her arm a little, waiting to see what her next move would be before he reached up and stopped it descending any further. He waited, knowing that any minute, her closed eyes would open and in the place of that hopeful sparkle he had seen only minutes before there would be the sadness he had become so accustomed to seeing in them and he knew that he would once again be the cause.

"No." He told her firmly and it took this denial on his part to cause her eyes to flick open.

"No?" She asked and as she looked down at him, he watched her emerge from the spell which they had seemed to be under. It was painful to watch and the results of her awakening saw her scrambling to cover herself up. He could not stand to see her so embarrassed so he knocked her hand away, desperate to convey his meaning without the words he seemed to have lost the capacity to conjure.

"You don't want to?" She sounded hurt, extremely so and the pain in her voice was like a knife in his chest and he watched helplessly as she tried to disentangle herself from him. At the last moment, before she was able to run, he swept her deftly beneath him, pinning her between himself and the bed so that her only hope of escape was to expound strength he knew she did not possess. He knew it was cruel to use his advantage as a man against her, but he needed her to hear him out and he knew if he released her now she would only run and this whole thing would be ruined before it got the chance to begin.

"No." He told her again but this time he meant that he would not let her go, that he would not let her run before she had given him a chance to explain.

"Why not?" Her voice was sad and almost laced with tears. "Did I do something wrong? Am I not what you expected me to be?" She asked angrily, needing answers.

"Sahira..." He started but this time it was her 'no' which stopped him continuing.

"What was this Greg? A test run? Did you think you'd take me for a ride and see if you liked the moves but now you've decided that I'm not worth the effort after all?" She was shouting now and she beat her fists against his chest to try to move him.

"Sahira stop, stop this." He told her, reaching between them and grabbing her hands, pinning them above her head where they could do him no more harm. "How could you even think that I would do that to you?" He sounded hurt, more so than she had thought him capable of being and she immediately regretted her harsh words. She knew how he felt about her, he had expressed himself in such a way that it was almost impossible for her not to and still she had questioned him in this viscous way.

"You are certainly not a disappointment to me, you are the most amazing woman I have ever been with and we haven't even been _together_ yet and it doesn't even matter because I know that I will never find anyone else I want to be with more than you. My search for the woman I want to spend forever with ends with you. Watching you the other day, seeing you achieve release, I didn't think it was possible for you to be more beautiful to me than that but then suddenly you're here – my light in the darkness and you're by side and looking at you now, I know that was wrong. You will never stop becoming more beautiful to me and I really do want to show you that I mean that." He told her, pressing a hot kiss to her mouth, which he was relieved to find, she returned without hesitation.

"So why don't you then?" She asked, concern suddenly colouring her tone. "Is it that you don't want me that way?" She added worriedly.

He wanted to laugh then. Did she really need to ask that question? Wasn't that much at least obvious between them? Something about the look in her eyes caused him to contain his laughter and instead he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"I want you in _every_ way. I want to be inside of you more than you know, I need to be inside of you... It's just..." He paused as he shifted against her, delighting in her gasp as he pressed himself closer to her intimacy. "It can't be tonight, like this..." He finished and she shot him a curious expression.

"Why?" She asked knowing that he was grieving and accepting that maybe he didn't think it was respectful to his sister for him to be fooling around with someone on the night when he had said his final goodbyes.

"I don't want to hurt you Sahira." He admitted, looking away and she felt her heart rise to her throat at his tenderness.

"You could never hurt me Greg." She promised him, struggling to free one of her hands so that she could pull his head around to hers again.

"You've seen what's happened already today, you've seen what a state I've gotten myself into. I'm running off emotions and they're not the right ones to show you. When we make love and I promise you, we will, I want the only thing I'm thinking of to be you. I don't want the rush of adrenaline which is fuelling me right now to cause me to do anything which might hurt you. You're too precious, you're worth too much to me for me to ruin the first time I make love to you. You understand that don't you?" He asked, his voice full of a different type of emotion to the one he described, an emotion which he reserved only for her and it touched her heart.

"Greg, I don't believe that you would ever do anything that would hurt me. But I do understand and it means more to me than you will ever realise that you would think about me like that. If you want us to wait that's fine, we've waited this long, a little longer isn't going to hurt is it?" She asked, kissing him gently.

"I don't know... It feels pretty painful right now." He told her staring in her beautifully complex eyes.

"Maybe I can make that go away." She replied, shifting closer to him as he finally trusted that she would not bolt and lay by her side. She pressed herself into the nook he had created with his body and kissed him deeply again. "Is it Ok for me to hold you?" She asked, knowing the answer already but needing to check anyway.

He nodded and she wrapped her arms around him, making those same comforting concentrically circular movements across his back as he had done for her on countless occasions. "You don't know how good this feels." He murmured.

"Believe me, I do." She replied thinking not only of how much better she always felt after being held by him, but also of how much she had longed to hold him in this way, in bed, shamelessly enjoying the feel of his body against hers.

As the premature darkness of the rainy night began to surround them, Sahira felt herself beginning to drift between wakefulness and sleep in that comforting haze of half truths and realities. As conscious thought began to leave her in favour the world of dreams, she heard him murmur against her head.

"Can I tell you about Wren?" He asked, a little nervously, she thought. In that moment she pushed sleep away and reached out to turn on the lamp on the nightstand.

"Of course you can, of course. Tell me." She replied, sliding back down the bed and resting her head against the pillow as she faced him.

* * *

><p>She wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep, she had become lost to the lull of his beautiful accent long ago and it was only when she became bitingly aware of the silence surrounding her that she realised that his voice had ceased to infiltrate her dreams. They had been talking for hours and he had shed some more tears and she knew that he had felt safe and secure enough to allow himself to do so only because he was with her. As she looked at him now in the almost consuming blackness, she noticed that even though his eyes were closed and she could not see their expression, there was calmness about his face which had not been there earlier. She closed her eyes then and snuggled in close to him as she thought that despite the fact that there had been no sunshine for Greg today, here in this room she had given him a ray of hope...<p>

* * *

><p><strong>So there it is. I wonder if it's what you were expecting? I wanted to pick up exactly where I left off and explore what happened after Sahira arrived. When writing this I drafted three different versions and it wasn't until I stopped hitting delete and wrote this version that I could say it was at a standard which was deemed post-able. I think it's because I want to get their dynamic right and to do so in a way which is mindful of the blocks which still very realistically exist in their relationship. Also I think it's because the next chapter has taken root in my mind already and I couldn't think of way to sufficiently set it up without ruining what I have in store. That's why you get the partial M content in this chapter, when writing it, I was tempted to go the whole way but I will reserve that for later... Stay tuned! Please let me know what you thought, I do so value your comments and opinions. <strong>

**Now I guess it's time to start getting excited about tonight's episode and hope that the writers don't totally shatter our dreams. **

**Thank you as always for your support and for reading this. **

**Love**

_**X~Michelle~X **_


	6. I Won't Give Up

**Hello lovely people, **

**So once again, I want to say a BIG thank you for all the interest in this story, it's definitely been a shock. Thank you to my girl 'Grahirafan' because you're always so enthusiastic and I believe I have you to thank for drumming up interest for my story via Twitter. I really have been flattered this week and want to give a big shout out to all the new tweeties I have gained because of you. **

**Following a conversation on twitter, I really hope that people are going to stick with me on this one after the heart break of last week's episode (that I love you still makes me sob) because I believe in HEAs and in this case, Grahiraforever. As I have also said, although there will be a HEA it won't be before some drama so hold on tightly, it'll be a bumpy ride. **

**As always, feel free to let me know what you thought of the chapter, because as well as bringing a little ray of sunshine to my day, reviews also make my fingers type quicker. **

**My author's note remains the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City, its plots or characters and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. The title of this chapter is inspired by the song of the same name by Jason Mraz so all credit where it's due. You know, I realised if you wanted, you could kind of see the chapter titles as a playlist of songs which seem to set the mood, this was I promise, unintentional but it does sort of work... **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>He was just settling down on the sofa after having kicked off his shoes and decided that nothing could be better right now than a little mindless television to help him unwind. Well actually, he could think of one thing, kissing her, feeling the curves of her body beneath his hands. But since they had returned from Ireland over a week ago, they had seen little of each other. This was not because she was deliberately avoiding him or indeed that the same was true of him – he knew he couldn't maintain any kind of forced distanced from her for long anyway – it was just that circumstances had kept them apart. Their shifts had either been scheduled differently or their workload had meant that they could exchange no more than a quick smile before they were called to attend a patient. Then of course, there was the obstacle presented to them by the fact that not only did no one at work know about their newly blossoming relationship, but her husband was also still working on Darwin. It was a dampener for him, it really was. Since they had entered into this relationship, for that was how he saw it already, their professional relations had also improved and despite this, because Rafi was ever-present they were even careful to maintain a tone of indifference when by chance they did get to speak. This was he understood, to avoid the suspicion of Rafi and in fact, everyone else but it still caused him a great deal of pain that he couldn't walk right up to her and kiss her or tell her he loved her as he had had the luxury of doing whilst they had been in Galway.<p>

It had gotten to the point where he was seeing the green-eyed-monster if anyone – patient or platonic colleague – Elliot Hope even, the world's most loveable cardiac surgeon – so much as looked in her direction. It wasn't fair that they could have her attention but he couldn't. But the jealousy was most potent when he saw her with Rafi. In the two months or so since he had started working at the hospital, Greg had become somewhat accustomed to seeing him trying to get her attention in various ways – a brush of her hip, a peck on the cheek – little insignificant things when he compared her responses to the way she kissed him, but since things had changed between them, he could barely tolerate seeing the other man within ten feet of her. She had tried to warn Rafi off and she did everything but actually shove him away from her, at one point she had even told Rafi that these public displays of affection had the potential to make their colleagues _uncomfortable_, but that didn't even cover it and it certainly didn't stop Rafi. At every opportunity he would touch her, almost as if he was lording it over him – 'this woman is beautiful and she is mine'. Not that Greg could blame him, she _was_ a beautiful woman and he couldn't say that if he was in Rafi's position, he wouldn't have done the same. It just got to him on a level deeper than he thought was even possible that he could only have her in recalled with a small reminiscent laugh the occasion upon which his frustrated jealousy had become too much.

* * *

><p><em>It was as the three of them had finished assessing a patient and were making their way back to the nurse's station. <em>_Rafi had just reached for her and pulled her into a full mouthed kiss, which even though she struggled against it, she could do nothing to prevent. So she had done what was natural – she had kissed him back and Greg had consequently done what felt natural to him – he had scoffed loudly and caused the couple to break apart. He hadn't failed to notice her expression of sheer panic as he had started to walk away. Neither did he miss her little comment to Rafi, 'he has intimacy issues'. He knew he could have taken offence but lucky for her, he had caught the slight lilt in her voice, the one meant only for him, the one which dared him to challenge her. He had let his posture stiffen just slightly, as if to register the offence he knew she was silently begging him to portray before walking away to prepare for theatre. So, she needed him to let Rafi win the battles - that was fine by him because he was in this for the long haul and he would, he was certain, win the war. _

_A little later, after the patient had returned from theatre and was in recovery and Rafi had been called to attend a case on the neurology ward, he went in pursuit of her. She wasn't in the staffroom or the locker room; she wasn't in Jac's office or out on the ward. He was just about to give up the search, assuming that she was in Hanssen's office for some reason when on his way back to the nurse's station, he had seen the door to the storeroom propped open and just visible inside, the rich caramel skin of her calves as she leaned up to one of the shelves which he could tell from here, was beyond her reach and he saw his opportunity. He checked left then right somewhat furtively and couldn't help the slight surge of guilt as he stole quickly and silently into the little storeroom after her._

* * *

><p><em>He had closed the door inaudibly behind himself and he couldn't help but smile as he found her humming quietly to herself. It wasn't until he encircled his arms around her from behind that she even realised that she had company at all. She let out a slightly stifled gasp as his right hand slid beneath the blue silk blouse she wore and gently brushed against the warmth of her skin. <em>

"_I have intimacy issues do I?" He whispered seductively right into the shell of her ear. _

"_Greg... What're...?" The words died on her lips as his hand snaked further upward, brushing the firm underwire of her lace bra. _

"_Do you need me to remind you just how intimate I can be?" He growled, his voice so low she almost missed it. _

"_It was just... a cover... I'm sorry." She replied, her speech already broken as her voice shook with desire. _

"_Well let me tell you, I don't appreciate jokes being made at my expense." He told her firmly, though there was laughter in his tone. _

"_I'm sorry." She whispered obediently, her body becoming rigid against his touch as his fingertips climbed higher, catching slightly on the delicate lace. _

"_You should be." He told her, turning her in his arms and beginning to walk her backwards. _

"_Greg... not... here." She told him insistently, though her eyes were already closed as if she was waiting for his next move. _

"_But here is the only place I get to see you." He replied defiantly, almost petulantly. _

"_I know... I'm working on it, I promise." She sighed a little whimsically as his head dipped and found the point just between the base of her neck and her collarbone, the area she always perfumed most heavily and ironically perhaps, the area which made her giddy as his lips brushed against it. _

"_I know." He told her forgivingly as he traced his way upwards and their lips met for the first time in the week since they had been back._

* * *

><p><em>The kiss was dominant and forceful and his tongue found hers immediately. It was nothing like the weak, showy kiss he had seen Rafi give her and her response was entirely different. She wanted this kiss, she wanted him. Her hand snaked into his hair and her body wound its way around his until he was sure that she was about to tear the shirt from his back. But then there was the sound of voices and she broke away quickly, her hand instantly going for the handle of the door and holding it tightly closed. She stared up at him with sparkling eyes and he tried to hold her gaze but it was just too powerful and eventually he looked away, pretending instead to listen intently for the retreat of the voices. After what seemed to be an acceptable amount of time, she let go the handle and shifted against him, forcing there to be some distance between them that neither of them wanted. <em>

"_What was it you wanted up there? Or did you just want to put on a show?" He teased, his eyes going to her legs which were only half sheathed by the dove grey skirt she was wearing. _

"_Actually I wasn't aware I was being watched and I was in here for a valid reason, I needed some more flip charts for the two new beds." She told him sternly though her voice was equally as playful as his had been. _

"_Oh well, why didn't you say so?" He asked with mirth, stretching over her "excuse me there Miss Shah." He murmured apologetically and just like that they are back to putting on a show, although they both knew this show was as much about what was not being said as the lines they were both performing. _

"_Thank you Mr Douglas." She replied, taking the two wrapped charts from him as he passed them to her. She waited a moment more before reaching for the handle. Just as she was about to open the door however, he grabbed her, holding her at the crook of her elbow. _

"_If you think you get away with one kiss, you're very wrong." He told her and his voice was heavy with the strain of all the things he wanted to do to her, with her. _

"_I don't plan on leaving it there." She assured him. _

"_Then when can I see you again?" He seemed desperate, almost as desperate as she was. _

"_I... I don't know. Rafi's here all week but he has been assigned to AAU for next Friday. Can you wait that long?" It was a ridiculous question particularly as she knew her own answer before the words had even stopped coming out of her mouth. No, she couldn't wait and neither by the looks of him, could he._

"_What if I say I can't?" He wanted to test the waters, see if he could get her to say what he wanted her to say. She looked at him with pained eyes before answering. _

"_I am trying." She promised again. _

"_I know." He assured her and they shared a meaningful gaze before she stepped away from him and opened the door. _

"_Thanks again Greg." She told him, holding the charts up prominently for any observer who might have been watching. _

"_Anytime Sahira." He replied and they both knew that he really meant it. He would wait for her as long as she needed him to. _

* * *

><p>His body ached just from the thought of their last encounter and he still had six days to wait before he could even think of touching her like that again, before he could even hope to be allowed to kiss her. To say that he missed her and that he would rather spend his Saturday night in her company was an understatement. Instead he was sitting here alone after a ten hour shift whilst she was probably at home, spending time with her boys or trying to find some other excuse not to be alone with Rafi. At least he hoped she was, because the thought that he had to share her any more than was already necessary was just too much to bear. He turned on the television until he found one of the repeat channels the digital companies were so fond on. He settled on an old episode of <em>Q.I, <em>bargaining with himself that it was better to watch the quiz show and end up shouting at the screen than to sit here watching some documentary which would bore him to distraction and would ultimately lead to thoughts of her, something which would frustrate him beyond belief.

He was about ten minutes in and just contemplating whether or not he could actually be bothered to venture to the kitchen for a beer when his mobile began to ring. Since he worked all the hours God gave, therefore meaning he had very little social life and had a questionable relationship with his family to say the least, he wagered it would likely be work. For a moment, he had experienced the fleeting thought that maybe it might be Sahira, the voice he longed to hear but then he remembered what the situation was and he remembered that she had the Saturday shift off since Rafi had been riding her about adjusting her working hours and only sticking to her contract and that hope died. He would just have to wait patiently, or less so, until Friday and in the mean time he would have to deal with whatever work-related dilemma had arisen now.

He reached for his phone and looked down at the display reluctantly. It was Saturday. Every normal person was out getting 'trollied' somewhere and what was he doing? Being a good doctor that was what. However much he really wished he could switch it off and forget, he had a duty of care to his patients and that had to come first. Besides, Elliot Hope was calling him and if that was the case, then there had to be something wrong. Elliot wouldn't call if there wasn't.

"Elliot, hi." He forced the tired regret from his voice as he connected the call.

"_Greg I'm glad I caught you." _He sounded relieved.

"Is it Mrs. Jenkins? Do you need me to come in and show her how harmless the E.C.G monitor is again?" He really hoped he didn't have to, but he kept his tone bright despite his clear reluctance.

"_No, Mrs Jenkins is fine, thankfully. She's sleeping actually but Greg I do think you should come in." _He paused for a moment letting this sink in, knowing that Greg was probably already assuming there was a new patient on the way in.

"What's the matter Elliot?" He asked, ignoring his need for rest and catching the worry in the older man's voice, a man who was as optimistic as his name suggested he would be.

"_There's someone here who needs you. Greg, Sahira is in my office – I found her wandering the corridors. Since she wasn't supposed to be in, I thought it was a bit... odd. She was... crying and I noticed she was carrying a suitcase. I can't get much sense from her but I think we can assume something happened between her and Rafi. I took her to the office and made her tea but she said she didn't want to talk. Understandable I suppose but she looks like she could do with a friendly face. I thought since you two are or at least were good friends..." _he amended, thinking of recent weeks and the distance between his colleagues _"maybe she might like to talk to you." _The older man finished and all he could do now was wait and hope that Greg could put whatever differences had arisen between them behind him and be there for his friend.

"I'll be right there, give me twenty minutes." He replied without a second's hesitation and he didn't even stop to consider how that might look for Elliot. If Sahira was hurting, he had to make it stop that was the only thing that mattered to him, the only thing which ever had.

* * *

><p>Elliot met him halfway down the corridor and if he hadn't have known better, he would have said that he was being treated like a relative being told to prepare for the worst.<p>

"Is she alright?" Greg asked, his voice automatically raising as he panicked.

"I don't know, I'm ashamed to say I don't know her as well as I'd like, but she's sitting in my office and she hasn't moved a muscle, she's just staring straight ahead as if she's waiting for... something..." He mused as they began walking towards the office.

As they reached the door Greg took a deep breath, almost as if he_ was _preparing himself for the worst before he turned to Elliot, his blue eyes sparkling with concern he simply couldn't hide. "I've got this." He murmured.

"Yes. Right. Well, I'll leave you to... Erm... Good luck." The surgeon bumbled before shuffling off.

"Elliot." Greg called to him waiting for him to turn, "thanks for calling me." He smiled weakly.

"Sometimes we have to admit we're not the best person for the job, if you know what I mean." He replied, the riddle puzzling the younger man.

"Yeah." He replied before opening the door.

'I _am _the best person for this job.' He thought as he closed the door behind him.

* * *

><p>Elliot had been right, not that he had expected the other man to be exaggerating – it was not in his nature – but he just hadn't believed that Sahira would be so lifeless. She was usually so animated and passionate that seeing her sitting on the cream sofa, staring straight ahead, her arms braced on either side of her body as she waited for... something was unnerving. He scanned the room quickly noticing the cup of tea on the coffee table in front of her, full and untouched and to her left, propped against the wall, a large black suitcase stood symbolic of something he didn't want to consider right now.<p>

She just looked too sad for him to warrant even the slightest trace of selfish optimism sitting there in her light stoned washed jeans and oversized beige jumper wearing hardly any makeup and having scraped her hair back off her face. She looked like someone who had experienced a trauma, she looked like any one of the distraught relatives they saw in this place on a daily basis and he couldn't help but feel partly responsible.

He stepped tentatively further into the room and sank slowly into the vacant space next to her. He moved ever so slightly closer to her and gently nudged his shoulder against hers in a bid to make his presence known.

"Hey." He murmured softly and that was all it took. Before he knew what had happened, she had turned her body into his, burying her head in the crook of his shoulder as she began to sob.

He wrapped his arms around her shaking body instinctively, knowing that in her saddest hour what she would need would be someone to hold her together. He could be that guy, no questions asked, no demands made. He cradled her head beneath his chin and whispered soft, soothing nothings into her hair, hoping that the steadiness of his voice would bring her some sense of calmness.

"What happened?" He ventured after a while, knowing that it was probably the wrong question to ask, but also recognising that he couldn't just take a shot in the dark given what he knew was likely to be the answer based on the evidence.

"I finally did it." She told him and suddenly her voice was clear and resolute in a way he had not quite expected as she leaned in closer returning his hug.

"You mean...?" He was tentative, he didn't want it to seem like he was too happy about the news she was beginning to tell him, even though his heart was already pounding with possibility.

"I left him Greg. I realised today that I couldn't keep telling lies, not to myself, or to him and certainly not to you. I told him I had to leave- that I couldn't be with him anymore. When he asked me why, I finally told him the truth – that not only did I realise that I don't love him anymore, but I am in love with someone else. I told him I had to go whether or not he could accept it." She told him slowly but he got the feeling that there was something she wasn't saying.

"What did he say?" He asked sensitively.

"He said he had suspected that I had fallen out of love with him for some time. He didn't even try to stop me as I packed my things..." She murmured flexing her hand and observing the bare skin of her ring finger like it was alien instead of expected or in her case, even normal.

"What aren't you saying?" He asked, needing the full story.

"Can we talk about this somewhere else?" She asked not liking the idea that they could be overheard.

"Sure, do you want to come to my place?" He asked hardly daring to let the automatic excitement this prospect caused get the better of him.

"D'you know, whilst I was packing all the things I thought I would need I realised I don't have anywhere in the world to go... my whole life has been with Rafi and now..."

"You will always have a place to go so long as I'm here." He cut across her, if only to stop those excruciating tears from falling again.

"Thank you." She murmured as she let him pull her to feet and watched him grab the suitcase in a gentlemanly gesture.

He scribbled a quick note for Elliot, thanking him again and explaining that Sahira was going to be staying with him for the night, before guiding her to his car.

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><p>It felt like she was encroaching on another world, a world which was alien and unfamiliar to her as she perched uncomfortably on the edge of his black sofa the way she would if she was a reluctant guest in another's house. Gone was the familiar magnolia of her entryway, gone were the homely touches she had lovingly put into each room – the granite worktops in the kitchen, the warm, welcoming chocolate carpet in the living room, the jungle themed playroom... She stopped herself before it got to hurting too much and surveyed the room instead as she waited for him to rejoin her from whatever he was doing.<p>

She found herself pleasantly surprised. She didn't know what she had expected of Greg's house, she supposed she hadn't really thought that far ahead – she had never imagined that her being her would ever be real. The room she now found herself in was clean and tidy, the slate grey carpet and matching curtains hinting at warmth which was inherent. Whilst it wasn't her home, it was _homely_ and she was glad. She couldn't have imagined staying in a bachelor pad where there would likely be evidence of other women having spent similar nights here. They had different ideas of home – hers centring around a kitchen filled with wobbly pictures of lions or pieces of 'golden writing' and his apparently was about comfort and pleasure, something she had recently learned about him. But it was a home nonetheless and as her eyes fell onto a picture of a young woman who by his descriptions could only be Saoirse, she wondered if she could ever be truly happy here, especially when part of her heart had already been ripped out tonight.

As if on cue, he re-entered holding out a glass of amber liquid which she guessed was scotch, something she definitely did not drink. Just thinking about the burn of it in her throat almost brought tears to her eyes.

"Thanks but I'm not a scotch kind of girl." She told him quietly, not taking it from him and avoiding his eye.

"Drink it, it'll help with the shock." He told her offering it to her again, she took it and took a slow sip, coughing as predictably, the liquid burned her throat.

"Now come on, what aren't you telling me?"

"I don't want to talk about it." She dismissed his question staring down into the glass, hoping that she would find the answer to her problems at the bottom of it.

"Where are the boys Sahira?" That was it. The right question to ask. No beating about the bush, just straight to the jugular. Something he had always believed in until he had met her and things had become complicated. Right now though, what he needed was the cards on the table – all of them.

"What do you want me to say Greg?" She asked, tears welling in her eyes already.

"I want the truth, that's the only thing I will ever ask you for." He told her.

"So you want me to tell you that I'll never see my children again because I chose to be with you? You want me to say that Rafi's going to drag me... drag us, our relationship... everything... through the court system until I won't have a leg to stand on? You want me to tell you how they're going to vilify me because I'm the one who walked out of our marriage and our family to be with another man? Is that what you wanted to hear?" She was angry now and tears were rolling down her cheeks.

"What? He can't do that, you're their mother, you need to be in their lives..." He tried to move past her hurtful words and blamed them on the pain this was causing her.

"Yes, but _he's_ their father. He has rights too and right now he looks like the stable, capable parent and I'm the one in a mess – no home, crazy work hours and a strange man in their lives. I can practically hear Victoria Beckham giving the congratulatory speech and handing over the _'Mum of the Year' _award now!" She laughed then, because laughing seemed better than crying.

"I told you already Sahira, you'll always have a place to stay here. So, it's not ideal situation but this _is_ a relationship and it will become stable enough for the boys, I can promise you that."

"Can you? Is that what this is? A relationship? You know, I told Rafi I was in love with someone else and when he asked me who, I couldn't even say your name, not because that's not how I feel about you but because I was terrified he was going to tell me what I already know – that this isn't going to last. Your track record is enough to tell me that and I've just gone and thrown my family away for something I can't even be sure will last until next week." She was laughing at herself but she cried heavy tears.

"I know you don't mean that." He told her, though the words cut him as deeply as a knife might have, just not so visibly.

"Don't I?" The words fell cruelly from her lips and then there was only silence.

* * *

><p>After the longest time in which they both said nothing since they could find nothing to say, she spoke. "This..." She mused "<em>this is your fault. All of it<em>." She whispered and then they were out there – the seven words she had been longing to scream at him for weeks. She would have still been with her family if he hadn't kept trying, if he wasn't so nice to her, if he hadn't made her fall for him...

"You know," his voice was quiet and sounded like a musical rift that was about to break at any moment, "you're right_. I _told you I am in love with you, _I_ told you I was willing to wait forever for you, _I_ was honest with you. This _is_ my fault." He told her and she could hear his sarcasm.

* * *

><p>Before she could reply he was gone and she didn't attempt to follow him as he thumped his way up the staircase in the hallway. He was up there for what seemed like forever. At one point she was sure she heard a stifled sob at the same moment as what sounded like his fist connected with the wooden column of a doorframe and then, just as she was about to follow the sound of his angry footprints which she could hear over head, he appeared back in the door way.<p>

"I thought of a solution." He deadpanned, refusing to look at her, "you can stay here tonight and then in the morning I'll drive you back to your house. You can tell Rafi that it was all a mistake, he'll take you back – because he loves you- and then you'll have your family back. I'll hand in my resignation and then disappear and it'll be like I never happened, like I wasn't even here." He told her, the pulse point in his neck twitching with anger. She said nothing, stunned by his words and his resolution. "Come on" he urged, pointing towards the stairs as if he was desperate for her to be out of his sight, "I'll show you the guestroom." Still she said nothing, she could only follow on, knowing that his anger was her fault. Maybe he wasn't completely to blame after all.

* * *

><p>Alone in his room, he could finally relieve some the tension which had been building up in his body since she had explained the reason why she hadn't named him as the man she was leaving her husband for. Did she really think so little of him after everything they had been through, after the things he had told her and what she had seen? Did she really think his 'I love you' was a joke to him, that it meant nothing? He had certainly never thought she could ever be that cruel. He guessed he was wrong.<p>

In the dark hours of the night he tossed and turned, thinking of how close she was and yet how far apart they now were. He allowed the silent, bittersweet tears of the loss he had yet to incur fall from his eyes and it made him feel marginally better. He had known at around one a.m when he had crawled into bed, that he would be getting no sleep tonight. To sleep would have been to downplay the severity of the situation and he knew he never wanted to forget feeling like this, if only so that he could remind himself that he had indeed felt this way about someone. It would be a welcome reminder that he really could love someone that much but that she might not love him back. A reality check of sorts he thought.

He rolled over, his eyes fixing on the door, tracing the whorls and knots in the wood in the darkness. He swore he could hear the seconds ticking past and yet this night seemed endless. He wanted morning to break so that he could drive her home and begin proceedings for his departure. Where he would go, he didn't know, just as long as it was far enough from her, he could start fresh. Only, his heart disagreed with his head, his heart wanted him to stay rooted to the spot and to fight for her but the rational part of himself knew that she was already gone, he had never really been able to compete with her family anyway.

* * *

><p>Sleep must have taken him at some time because the sound of the sharp knocking on his door woke him with a start. He stirred and sat up knowing of course that it was her before she even spoke.<p>

"Greg?" She called softly, "can I come in?" She asked quietly. He was still angry but a bigger part of him loved her and it was this part of him which called out his acquiescence.

She stood awkwardly at the end of the bed wearing her pyjamas, looking even more beautiful than he had ever seen her.

"What is it?" He asked, not intending to be harsh with her.

"You know..." She murmured, "I was thinking - that was quite the plan you came up with..."

"Oh yeah?" He replied, not wanting to read too much into this.

"Yeah, but I was thinking, what if it's the wrong one?" She asked and the question seemed more for herself than for him.

"Do you have an alternative?" He asked, pushing the tiredness he felt from his mind.

"What if I did stay?" She seemed to be waiting for his reaction, but he was too unsettled to give it to her.

"What if you did?" He threw the question back at her.

"I love you too Greg and I do mean that, I should have been able to say it without hesitation. I want to be with you." She told him, her tone firm and apologetic as she said the words he had longed to hear.

He looked at her then, noticing how much it had taken for her to come in here and say them. It was written all over her face, the realisation that being with him meant losing her children, the knowledge that being without him meant just that – being without him – something equally incomprehensible to her.

* * *

><p>"Come here." He told her, throwing back his quilt and patting the space beside him.<p>

She crossed the room quickly and slipped into bed beside him, curling her cold body around his comparative warmth and resting her head against his chest in a way which felt completely natural to her.

"Sahira... being with me won't make this better, it won't bring them back. I can't do that for you." He told her needing her to understand the choice she was making.

"I know. But that doesn't mean that I can't fight for my children." She murmured sleepily.

They were silent for a moment and Greg was also beginning to drift when something, _someone_ popped into his head, the solution staring him in the face all along...

"Sahira..." He spoke quietly to see whether she was still awake.

"Mm?" She mumbled.

"What if I knew someone who could?" He asked, the idea already formulating in his mind.

"Who could what?" She asked, sleep confusing her.

"Bring your children back." He told her.

She woke up properly then, staring up at him with her intense eyes.

"Then I think I'd have to tell you I love you." She replied, pressing a quick kiss to his lips as she waited for him to explain.

* * *

><p>As the sun rose Greg woke to find her still wound around him and nothing could have made him happier nothing perhaps, save for the knowledge that she was completely happy. This wasn't quite true... yet. It was this realisation which caused him to disentangle himself from her as carefully as he could in order that he could get out of bed. When he had succeeded, he grabbed his mobile and headed for the hallway. Scrolling through his contacts, he stopped on the appropriate number and hit 'call'. Despite the fact that it was a Sunday and indeed just after six in the morning, the call connected after only two rings as he had expected.<p>

* * *

><p>"<em>Greg?"<em>

"Morning Caleb."

"_What is it? Is it Mum?" _His brother asked worriedly.

"No it's not Mum. I need your help Cay."He replied.

"_Are you in trouble?" _He asked in disbelief.

"Wrong again little brother, you remember Sahira – the woman with me at...?" He trailed off waiting for his brother's young brain to catch up, when he mumbled his recollection Greg continued. "Well her husband is trying to gain custody of their children, I want to help her fight it." He finished.

"_Sound complicated, are you sure you want to get involved here Greg_?" He asked not even surprised that Greg had become involved with a married woman, honestly with his past, worse things had been known.

"I'm already involved and besides I love her Cay and I want to make her happy. This is the way to do that, but I can't do it without some help, _your_ help. So will you help your brother out?" He replied knowing his answer immediately.

"_Love? Jesus. She's a lucky girl.. Alright, tell me."_ Caleb replied, listening attentively as Greg explained what he knew. There was a pause on the end of the line and Greg had to fill it.

"What do you think?" He asked nervously.

"_I think.. You've got it bad. I also think this will be no mean feat."_ He replied.

"Can you help?" He asked, ignoring the first part of his comment.

"_Can you fix hearts?"_ His brother shot back playfully, it was a game they had played as kids – asking obvious questions, giving obvious answers, just for fun. Greg knew he was using it as a suspense device now though.

"Of course." Greg replied, playing along.

"_Then I can help. I'll be there tomorrow, you still at the same address_?"

"Where else?" He murmured knowing he never would have succeeded in getting far away from her if they had gone with his plan, he loved her too much.

"_See you soon."_ Caleb told him.

"Thanks little brother." Greg told him, meaning it whole heartedly.

"_Don't thank me yet."_ Caleb replied, then he was gone...

* * *

><p><strong>So there it is, I hope you liked it, I wanted to shake things up a little with this chapter before I launch into the next bit which is going to play out over four chapters... Please feel free to let me know what you thought and please do forgive any minor editorial mistakes. <strong>

**I'll start work on the next bit soon, thank you for reading. **

**Happy Holby watching tonight!**

**Love always,**

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	7. Breaking the Law

**Hello lovely people, **

**Once again I must thank you for the interest and reviews for this story they really do mean the world to me. So here we go, getting ready to pick up from when I left our favourite couple on the edge of that cliff! **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City, its plots or characters and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. The title of this chapter was a toughie but I settled on some inspiration from the song of the same name by the wonderful Emeli Sande – all credit where it's due please. Oh and people who follow me on twitter will know that my question this week was, what is Sahira and Rafi's oldest son called? If anyone knows could you please let me know? Until then I've decided to go with 'Sunni' as this seems to be in keeping Indy. Evidently I don't own the character, don't even own the name, it's just a substitute for information we haven't been given. Also all terminology used herein has been researched as far as possible so I apologise if mistakes are made. **

**For Gemma because she needs a distraction so I'm told ;-)**

* * *

><p>"You know, it really isn't a good idea for us to be meeting here, do you realise the conflict of interest we're talking about?" Caleb asked following his brother from the main reception desk at Holby City hospital towards the small cafeteria.<p>

"Cay seriously? You're my brother,you're here on a visit now would you stop with the furtive glances." Greg laughed, his approach to this as relaxed as he was about most things, except her. Sahira was the one thing in his life which he treated with deadly seriousness.

"Oh so I'm on a visit and we're just going to happen to bump into the woman you're..." He paused in his anger, trying to search for the appropriate words.

"In a relationship with?" Greg finished for him; this was the truth after all.

"Would you just lower your voice please, you're about to blow this case apart, why couldn't we have just met at your place?" Caleb asked in an angry whisper.

"Well because and you may have only just noticed little brother, but both of us are in fact heart surgeons and we're very busy, you know, saving hearts." Greg joked but Caleb only scowled.

"I don't think I could ever miss the fact that you're a heart surgeon Greg but you know, my job... the one you asked me here to do, requires me to abide by this little thing called the law. Now if you want to stand any chance of winning this case then you have to start playing by the rules, hard as it might seem, you have to listen to me." The younger man instructed as he took a seat at the least obvious table in the cafeteria.

* * *

><p>"She is coming isn't she? You told her about this meeting?" Caleb asked, looking at his watch and noticing that they had been here for thirty minutes already.<p>

"Of course she is, Cay this is the job. It doesn't keep regular hours – people's hearts, they fail without the proper courtesy of letting us decide when." Greg replied snippily but only because he was nervous. In the time they had been here, Caleb had managed to get through three espressos and was looking as if he might be ready for a fourth. He knew his little brother well and if he needed that much caffeine in his body, there was a serious problem.

"She'll be here." He murmured again, pulling out his phone. Just as he was about to hit her speed dial combination, she came racing around the corner, still buttoning her shirt and he realised again that she was never more beautiful than when she was caught off guard.

"I am so sorry." She told them as she slid into the vacant seat at the table and gave them an apologetic smile as he went to order her a latte.

"Mr Douglas, hi." She smiled at Caleb, noticing the awkwardness of using the name which sent shivers down her spine in reference to another man.

"Please, I told you before, Caleb is fine." He smiled reassuringly and she returned it with gratitude as Greg sat back down and handed her the Styrofoam cup.

"Ok..." Caleb began speaking more to himself than to either of them as he reached into his briefcase and withdrew some paperwork. He spread the appropriate documents on the table between them and cleared his throat before speaking.

"So, as you both know, this morning I had a meeting with Dr. Raza's counsel..." Before he could give more details, Sahira interjected.

"How is he?" She seemed worried and both men could reason that this was understandable – they had been married for seven years after all.

"Well Sahira, perhaps I should have explained this more clearly when we met on Monday but in cases of family law like this one, particularly with the added personal connection between us" he motioned between himself and Greg "I'm not permitted direct contact with Dr Raza until the case is brought to court." He replied, hoping that this gave her sufficient answer. "But since Mr Green, Dr Raza's lawyer served me with these today, I believe we can safely assume he hasn't changed his mind and wishes the grievance between the two of you to be resolved legally." He told her, handing over the summons which Harry Green had produced for him at the end of their meeting an hour ago.

"You mean he wants to drag everything out into the harsh light of day." She sighed as she looked down at the papers, noting terms such as 'claimant' and 'defendant' and suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the whole thing.

"According to his counsel, Dr Raza has expressed a wish for this to enter the legal system, not simply to punish you but rather..." Caleb paused considerately.

"What? What did he say?" Greg pushed when he didn't complete his sentence.

"To get the truth. He feels he has been mistreated in this case." Caleb murmured quietly.

"Mistreated?" Sahira didn't understand. _Of course _Rafi felt mistreated, she had left him after all. She didn't expect him to be ecstatic about the fact that seven years of their lives now apparently counted for nothing but there was something about Caleb's tone which told her that his choice of that particular terminology had been hesitant and that the word which had found its way from his head had been a substitute for something.

Greg watched his little brother intently. He had heard what they said about lawyers – that you had to ask the right questions, had to keep pushing them for all the information. He supposed that was the benefit of having a lawyer in the family and on this case – he could tell when he was being lied to and right now, a lie was written all over Caleb's face. He stared into his brother's grey eyes and suddenly the truth came to light there.

"What he means is that Rafi wants to use this – you and me - against you in court. That's right isn't it?" Greg asked and Caleb nodded.

"Mr Green briefed me about Dr Raza's specific grievances in this case... Since this is a custody case concerning your two sons..." he paused a moment and rifled through the paper work for the children's names, feeling terrible since they had spoken about them only that morning.

Sahira noticed this with no small amount of irritation and she supplied the names quickly. "Sunni and Indy." Her voice broke a little as she mentioned them.

"Ah yes Sunil and Indiana." Caleb affirmed somewhat coldly and Greg could have wrung his neck right there.

"Cay, do me a favour Ok? You can see she's upset, try to have a heart." He told him, taking hold of Sahira's hand and squeezing it lightly for support.

"I'm sorry Greg, it's just, this is serious. This has just become real and I have a legal obligation as your chosen counsel to share all the information pertaining to the case. Besides, believe it or not, I am on your side and I want to make sure you win." He replied, his tone softening a little to accommodate Sahira's grief.

* * *

><p>"What is the nature of Rafi's complaint?" Sahira asked, realising that this was probably the right question to ask to get this conversation back on track.<p>

"Well it isn't simply that you left him." Caleb replied, looking at her apologetically.

"Ok. So what else?" Her voice was quiet as she prepared herself for the worst.

"Dr Raza intends to use the secrecy of your relationship with Greg against you. Mr Green will attempt to prove for the judge that your refusal to disclose who you were leaving him for is evidence that the relationship will not be stable enough for the boys..." He paused and Greg instantly thought of what Sahira had told him on Saturday... _'I couldn't tell him it was you because I wasn't sure this would last.' _

"But that's not the case is it?" Caleb asked.

Sahira pressed her hand more tightly into Greg's holding it and not letting him go "No. It isn't." She told him, looking at Greg who smiled at her. "I love him and he loves me." She finished.

* * *

><p>"Good. So that's something." His tone seemed conciliatory.<p>

"There's more?" Greg asked.

"Dr Raza has quite an extensive list of complaints." He replied. "His goal is to make Sahira appear completely unstable, on top of using your relationship he intends to make use of your situation here."

"My situation?" Sahira wasn't exactly sure what was meant by this.

"This is the drawback you see, having your husband working in the same environment that you do – especially given your relationship with Greg. Dr Raza is of course aware of your position as head of CTU and the pressures this puts on you in terms of keeping to your contract. He worries that should you be held up here, your children would be left in the care of someone they don't know and he is, understandably, nervous about the effects of this on the boys."

"But he can't do that surely? Make me look unstable, use all of these things against me?" She was nervous and Greg felt her grip on him tighten, if that was even possible.

"Sahira, believe me when I say this, I _am_ on your side. But can we just think about this for a moment? On one side of the table there'll be Dr Raza: He's a working dad with regular hours and a stable place of abode but more than this there is no one else in his life to complicate matters. He's their father and that's all the judge will see. On our side of the table there'll be an adulterous woman in a questionable relationship who works erratic hours. I mean you no offence when I tell you that the way the brief is looking right now, I can suggest with some confidence that the judge is already hedging his bets with Dr Raza." Caleb admitted sadly.

"Adulterous?" The word was a mere whisper but it's effects reverberated long beyond its vocalisation.

"It's the term the judge will use, you _are_ still married after all and Mr Green is going to try to make you look as bad as he possibly can. I get that, that's why I'm going to do everything in my power to put a positive spin on this." He breathed out slowly as the impact of his words made itself known.

"Greg!" The word was strangled in her throat and he wasn't quite sure how he could help.

"Caleb... We haven't I mean, you know – there's been no adultery." He murmured quietly. This wasn't quite the truth, there had been intimacies but he didn't think it counted if intercourse had yet to occur.

"Greg it's Ok, I get it." Caleb dismissed this as falsehood.

"It's the truth Cay, Sahira's staying with me but she's sleeping in my guestroom – which incidentally, is why you're on my sofa." Greg insisted and Caleb's eyes flashed with recognition and apology.

"I just don't think the judge is going to buy it."

"But it's the truth and if they're going to use a lie to stop me from gaining custody of my children then I want it documented, do what you have to, ask whatever you need to." Sahira told him firmly, her eyes sparkling with passion and Greg nodded a slightly reluctant agreement.

"So exactly what is the case here Caleb? He doesn't know who I am and Sahira works too much?" Greg asked for clarification.

"In a nutshell." He replied knowing that Dr Raza's counsel would find a way to complicate it further.

* * *

><p>Greg was silent for a moment and Caleb knew that the brooding look which had overcome his features only meant bad things, it meant that the object of his rage would be in trouble and right now, he was tempted to run to reception and ask exactly where Dr Raza was at this precise moment, if only for the other man's safety.<p>

"You know, there is one way we might be able to turn this around." Caleb mused after a while.

"What's that?" Sahira asked, desperate for an out which allowed her to be with Greg and to retain custody of her children.

"You two are serious about staying together when this is all over right?" He asked motioning between them.

"Yes." Sahira spoke up immediately, silently regretting her haste as she realised that maybe he was having second thoughts he seemed to notice this, if his reply was anything to go by.

"When are you going to start believing me? Of course I want to be with you, with _all _of you." Greg told her and suddenly it didn't matter that they were in a legal meeting, that they were in front of his brother or indeed that they were in the hospital, she had just realised that this was real and she couldn't help leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

"Ok so I think we can agree that's a yes." Caleb commented with a little laugh. "You do realise that being with Sahira means raising her children too?" He added in all seriousness.

"That's what I just said." He affirmed.

"Right Ok, Sahira I know that this might seem fast, I know you might not be ready for this, I know that this all new. I _know_ all of that, but I _can_ think of one way we can make this work for you."

"So tell me." Sahira replied.

"If you really are serious about this relationship with Greg, I think your best route is to file for a divorce." He told her, letting the word settle for a moment.

* * *

><p>"Divorce?"<p>

"Cay is that necessary so soon? I mean can't we just get through this first?" Greg asked, knowing that this would be too much for Sahira.

"Hear me out for a second. If you filed for divorce you could control the justification for it. Realistically, if you want to win this case then it would mean you'd have to offer the judge full discloser on your relationship. But the benefit of filing for divorce at this early stage and offering up adultery as the grounds for it would be that the case would be placed back in your control. Since you'd be admitting to being the cause of the marital breakdown, you'd become the complainant and he would be the defendant by default. I'm not saying you'd look any better in terms of leaving the marriage, but you would prove that you are taking steps towards another future – realistic and meaningful steps." He paused again, knowing that all this legal information would be overwhelming them both.

"But what about the custody case? I just want my children back with me." Sahira replied, not sure why Caleb was going from listing Rafi's grievances to suggesting that they overhaul the case entirely.

"This way the custody case becomes a mandatory part of the divorce proceedings and not simply a battle between two separated spouses. The judge would be obligated to return a decision and if you were to say for example that you wished to have the divorce resolved by the end of proceedings in the interest of your boys' wellbeing, then your devotion to them would be demonstrated for the court to see. All it would take is your admission of responsibility and of course, Rafi's decision not to contest the terms of the divorce."

"But surely he would contest them if he's aware that custody of their children is bound up with it?" Greg asked.

"Realistically, so long as he agrees that Sahira has displayed some type of unreasonable behaviour – leaving him for you for example – which, I believe, we've established he intends to, he cannot contest the divorce. It doesn't matter that he will try to fight the decision to award custody based on the outcome since the grounds for divorce are not directly concerned with the children. Certainly, the divorce would affect them but it is not caused by them – there is no abuse or neglect for example- and therefore the judge cannot do anything but abide by the legal practice of reaching a decision by the end of the divorce proceedings. You see for all intents and purposes the two issues are technically separate but if you file for divorce now, which I assume you were going to do at some point..." He looked in Sahira's direction then and perceived her frank nod, "then this can all be resolved quickly and without more upset, for all parties concerned." He told them as if he was already concluding his closing argument now.

"So are we talking about a 'quickie' divorce here?" Sahira asked and her voice was raspy with emotion.

"Technically? Yes." Caleb asked.

"Aren't they ridiculously expensive and how can the judge really decide what's best that quickly?"

"That's the thing - this type of petition would place the control with you and your husband. You have to understand when this goes to court on the twenty fifth, it won't be a trial. There'll be no swearing in, there'll be no cross examinations. It just be the four of us you and I, Dr Raza and his counsel and I suppose Greg, if you wish him to be there. So long as you can agree on the charge of unreasonable behaviour via adultery as the cause of breakdown in this instance and so long as you present yourself amicably and honestly, then there is no reason why the marriage shouldn't come to a calm annulment. The judge's job then will be to decide in favour of one or the other of you in terms of custody, but as I'll say again the main benefits are you'd be in control and it would all be resolved as soon as you can agree that divorce is the only possible outcome which you will entertain with regard to your marriage. So long as you are quite clear about what and indeed who you want, everything should be straightforward." Caleb told her.

"I am." She murmured after a while and Caleb raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Sure of who I want. My boys and Greg." She told them both.

"So are we changing the case petition?" Caleb attempted to clarify but Greg held up a silencing hand and turned to her.

"Sahira wait a minute. Think about this really carefully. You don't have to do this, we could still fight the case as it stands."

"You heard your brother Greg, I am not looking like anyone's idea of the perfect mother as it stands right now and besides I would have to divorce him eventually. Why shouldn't it be sooner rather than later? I want a life with you Greg, a proper life." She told him and he knew she was referring to every possible facet of their future.

"Let's do this." She told him, clutching his hand again as she watched Caleb scribbling furiously in his legal notebook.

* * *

><p>"Well now that we've got some direction I have to ask for your responses to the points Of Dr Raza's brief." Caleb told her.<p>

"What do mean?" She seemed confused.

"You have to make some acknowledgement of his grievances formally. Of course, you could choose to withhold your response until the court date, but reacting in that way could be mistaken for uncooperative behaviour." Caleb sounded like it caused him great pain to continue to push her like this but it was all just a formality and he had a duty to be completely straight with her.

"So his grievances were what exactly?" Sahira rubbed at her temples hating the stress headache she could already feel settling there.

"The concealment of the identity of your... lover" he flashed a quick expression of apology in her direction "and the erratic nature of your contract. It boils down to an interest in the best care for your children and I'm willing to fight for you on that charge, especially now I've seen your commitment to each other."

* * *

><p>They were silent for a moment as they contemplated the direct way in which Rafi had attacked her – grasping her tightly with things she could not deny.<p>

"Done." Greg spoke after a long pause and the others stared at him blankly.

"What's done?" Caleb asked in confusion.

"Everything. Rafi wants to know who I am? Fine. I want to tell everyone we're together now anyway, so what if they know? It makes no difference to how I feel about you. He's worried about your working hours? I'll sort it." He told her with conviction.

"How?" She murmured.

"Easy. I just walk right on up to him and let him know like a man. We don't need to be ashamed of our feelings, we shouldn't have to be. As for work, I'll square it with Hanssen, I'll take on CTU – stop Naylor getting her claws into it and you'll go back to working with your patients - working the hours you're supposed to. That way we answer all his qualms and we look strong, united added to that is the fact that you can spend time with the boys properly. As for the divorce, I don't want you to worry about a thing, I'll take care of it." He told her, his voice so sure she almost cried.

She was shocked into silence for a moment and it took her a while to process what he was saying, how much he was putting on the line for her. In the end she could only nod blindly as she became vaguely aware that Caleb had started to pack up.

"So what happens now?" She murmured.

"Well right now I'm going to head off to the courtroom and get started on this change of petition. We don't have much time after all. Longer term I guess I'll see you back at Greg's place later." He smiled, the same slightly crooked and charming grin as his brother but unlike the older sibling, he did not make her body quiver just in that one motion. What he did achieve however was inspiring a sense of calm in her she had not felt since she had walked out on her family on Saturday.

Her placed his hand on her arm reassuringly then "It's going to be Ok. I won't rest until they're back where they belong." He insisted and then he followed them from the cafeteria on his way out.

"Thank you." She called after him as he walked towards the exit.

"Any time." He called back in his lilting Irish accent.

* * *

><p>She knew she shouldn't but as the lift doors slid shut she slipped her hand into his, appreciating the way his fingers laced with hers as if by instinct.<p>

"Greg..." She started, not really knowing what she wanted to say.

"Don't worry, it's going to be fine."

"That wasn't what I was thinking... It's just, what about the cost? I'm not talking just finances here..." She trailed off, thinking about Rafi's quick temper.

"Sahira I know what's at stake but listen to me, nothing could cost me more than your smile means to me. Right now, this is the thing stopping me from seeing that beautiful face of yours light up so if I can help make it go away then that's what I'm going to do. No question about it." He told her, watching as the numbers slid closer and closer to Darwin. The truth was he would not think twice of breaking the constraints of the legality of this situation if it only meant she'd be happy again. He would do anything for that, anything for her.

"You know, I love you Greg Douglas."

"I love you too." He told her, noticing that it was the first time they had openly exchanged those three little words without any hint of awkwardness. His automatic response inspired the smallest of smiles which he did not fail to notice.

"That isn't... no... it couldn't be a..." He teased leaning in close as if to inspect some strange and rare phenomena – which is exactly what her smile had become.

"Shut up..." She murmured, feeling her chest contract as he grew closer.

"No, no this is definitely cause for celebration." He continued, his voice playful.

"What did you have in mind?"

"One for the road?" He quirked his eyebrow up and she laughed.

"A laugh too? Oh I am lucky." He told her, sweeping her into his arms and pressing a quick kiss to her lips just before the doors of the lift opened out onto Darwin.

"So..." He breathed, steeling himself against something not even present yet "Rafi's on Neurology?" He asked casually as if he was enquiring about the weather or some other uninteresting subject.

She turned back towards him, watching him punch the button for the appropriate floor and giving him a little nod.

"Be careful." She murmured.

"Always am." He told the air as the doors shut and she was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>Well there it is, I hope that you enjoyed it. As I said as much legal research has gone into this as I could spend time doing and I think I hit all the buzz words. If not then please forgive me, as you know this is a work of fiction so I guess it doesn't have to be entirely accurate any way. As I mentioned this next part will run over the course of four chapters so this is part one. Hopefully I caught all the edits, if not please forgive me. <strong>

**Thank you as always for reading, reviewing and generally being amazing. I have enjoyed getting to know you all so much. **

**Love **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	8. Everything I Do

**Hey lovely people, **

**Once again I find myself astonished by the reaction to this as I come to write the next chapter. Thank you so much for your reviews and interest and for your lovely comments, I really do appreciate them and I'm glad that you weren't put off by the legal lingo which I'm sure wasn't perfect. I think it's time to see what happens next... Is our Mr Douglas going to be alright? Remember in terms of this story Rafi has no suspicions about Greg, so they are still 'friends' or at least pretending to be – this will be quite important for this chapter. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. The title of this chapter is inspired by the song of the same name by Bryan Adams – credit where it's due, sticking with the musically chapter titles for some reason! **

**I hope you enjoy this.**

* * *

><p>The lift ascended one floor at a time, steadily rising higher and Greg couldn't help but notice the cool irony which seemed to accompany the knowledge that the neurology department was so close to the office floors, the area of the hospital commonly referred to as 'land of the Gods'. Structurally, the positioning of the department seemed logical, the brain was the top most part of the human anatomy but in his time at the hospital, he had heard that the neurosurgeons had God delusions like you wouldn't believe. As the lift ground to a halt and he stepped out onto the ward, he could definitely start believing it.<p>

Being a heart surgeon he hadn't really had cause to come up here, in much the same way as he hardly expected Miss Bellamy or Mr Morley to be found wandering the halls of Darwin. But this was like another world. Everything right down to the nurse's station was high tech and the quiet of the ward was a far cry from the hustle and bustle of daily life on the cardiac ward and, as he approached the brunette at the desk, not even noticing how she batted her eyelashes at him now he didn't have cause to care, he knew he wouldn't swap heart surgery for any other discipline in the world.

He rested his palms against the polished surface of the nurse's station and quickly retracted them as the nurse raised her eyebrow disapprovingly.

"What can I do for you?" She asked, shamelessly running her eyes over his body which frankly he found repugnant. He could now understand why people thought badly of him in his previous behaviour towards the opposite sex. For right now and, as far as he was concerned, forever he would think only of one woman.

"I'm looking for Dr Raza." Greg told her brusquely.

"Erm... She looked at her computer screen and then looked back at the handsome stranger. "He was in theatre one with Mr Harrison, I imagine he's on his way back out. What was your emergency?" She asked.

"No emergency. I need to speak with Dr Raza on a personal matter." He told her, his tone still abrupt.

"Oh... Is this about his wife? Word on the hospital grapevine is that he's back on the market. What's he like?" She asked, intrigued.

Greg's face darkened "That, is none of your business and as for Dr Raza I think you'll find he's still married." He told her, knowing that he was speaking hypocritically but needing to come to Sahira's defence.

"Oh well I _am _sorry. What do you care anyway?" She asked grumpily.

"I just do. Now where can I find him?" He asked his tolerance level dipping.

"Left at the end of the corridor." She replied stroppily and he ignored her immaturity in favour of seeking Rafi out. The sooner this was over with, the better.

* * *

><p>The only thing which quelled his nerves as he advanced down the corridor practising what he was going to say to Rafi was the anger he felt at thought of that nurse and her attempts to shamelessly flirt with him. He understood now why it had taken so much for Sahira to trust him, this was exactly the type of behaviour he had frequently engaged with in the past and he was sorry. He just hoped that his unwavering commitment to her would be enough to reassure her and he knew that however uncomfortable this made him, this way the first step. This would secure their future but more than that it would address one of the issues Rafi had raised in his initial complaint and that could only make Sahira look better in the eyes of the court.<p>

It seemed to take forever to get the appropriate theatre and he wasn't sure if that was because the corridors up here were unusually long or whether it was just him dragging it out. He suspected it was the latter. As he approached, he heard voices in the theatre's atrium and he recognised one of them immediately as belonging to Rafi. His heart began to sink as he realised that what had initially been a hot headed reaction to Rafi's somewhat ludicrous demands was now going to prove to be a test and he certainly did not want to fail.

He hung around outside of the theatre like a chastised school boy not wishing to enter the sterile environment or indeed to interrupt another surgeon whilst he debriefed with his team, Greg knew the irritation this had often caused him and besides he could use the extra minutes to put together a strategy here. Should he aim for contrition? Make it sound like he was sorry he had been the one Sahira had left her husband for? Could he tell that lie effectively? Should he use his tentative 'friendship' with the other man to bring this up in casual conversation? Or should he just be a man about the whole thing and come out and say what he really felt? That Sahira had clearly been undervalued in her marriage that trying to hold her back when her career was just taking off was not only the cause of her unhappiness but also a great source of selfishness, the kind she no longer appreciated. He wanted to tell him other things too, like how beautiful he thought Sahira was and how many times he had already told her this. How every day he fell just a little bit more in love with her and how this scared him beyond comprehension. He wanted to tell him that in one twenty minute encounter, without even having to unwrap the precious gift she represented to him, he had almost brought her to her knees, had given her back her smile and made her feel like the woman she was and always had been. He knew he had to be careful, saying too much would make it look as if they had been indulging in illicit and secret encounters left, right and centre and though he wanted that to be the case in his heart of hearts, he knew that at least until after the case, they were better living as they were now – as two friends who wanted, who needed more.

* * *

><p>Rafi exited the theatre after another successful operation, still shaking soap from his wrists in an absent minded way which showed his distraction. Ever since Saturday, he hadn't been able to concentrate. Things had moved so fast, one minute Sahira had been telling him that she had Saturday off and suggesting that they take the boys to the new soft play centre which had just opened and the next, they were sipping wine in strained silence as she looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders and he had been asking her what was the matter and then, the bomb had been dropped.<p>

'_I don't love you anymore.' _

Those words hurt more than any of the others which had followed them, even hearing her say that she loved someone else, that she was leaving him for someone else hadn't touched his heart in quite the same way as those words had. It hadn't just been what she had said though, it had been the cold repulsion in her eyes which had hit him straight in the heart and he remembered thinking, for he had hardly been able to muster the words, that he had never known her to be so cruel. Then she had been gone and the door had been slammed behind her with the harsh promise that so long as she chose this other 'mystery' man, she would never see her children again.

He knew this would hurt her and at the time, nothing had brought him greater comfort. He hoped she was feeling at least an ounce of the pain she had caused him in doing this and that was why first thing on Sunday morning he had contacted the lawyer they kept on retainer in case the GMC and their independent unions ever failed them and had monopolised the support and backing of a man he knew she had equal right to. Drawing up the papers had been easy, he did have a valid complaint after all, but signing them and entrusting them to Harry Green ready to be served to his wife had been the hard part, not least because even a day's reflection had been enough to tell him that he couldn't really hurt her like that – make a decision so final- but in the end he had to keep the best interests of the boys at heart and since he knew so little about this new arrangement of hers, he could hardly attest that she was the best possible person to take care of their children full time, so he had told her as much in his complaint against her. His remorse had begun to fade when he had learnt that she had also found legal representation, so clearly she was looking for a fight. He wondered how she had found someone so quickly, wondered if she had even thought of Harry or had just severed all contact with any part of their life including the legal advisor they had entrusted their representation to as a couple. He didn't want this to be a battle but there were things left unsaid and he needed all the information. He deserved as much.

Many times over the past few days, even though Harry had advised him that it was of no benefit to do so, he had considered the type of man Sahira was now with. He could only assume that she had run to him after leaving on Saturday and he could only imagine the things that man was doing to his wife. The thought of her - the wife and mother, living licentiously in this way made him balk and he wondered, not for the first time if that wasn't the reason why she had left. In the days that had passed he had been busy trying to make excuses for Sahira's absence to their young sons and all the time he had been referring to her as Mummy. Even in his solitary thoughts that was how he had been considering her. She was the Mummy in the family, she was the face that all three of them needed to see before they shut their eyes to sleep at night, just to be sure that she was there and their family was complete. Rafi realised as he became overwhelmingly aware of the lonely sound of his rubber soles against the floor that not once since she had been gone had he missed her as his wife – as the woman who had made his stomach flip just with a single smile or who looked most beautiful when she wore nothing but a rumpled bed sheet, not once had he longed for her touch or her kiss and this only made him wonder how many nights she had lain awake whilst he slept with his back to her, yearning, hoping for him to return to her, to see her for what she really was - a woman who needed attention, his attention. He wasn't exactly sure when or why he had stopped seeing her that way only that it had happened and he was sorry. It suddenly dawned on him that he no longer deserved to be her husband. But that didn't mean that some other man could have her either, she was still his wife after all. If only he had known exactly how quickly she planned for that not to be the case...

* * *

><p>So lost in his thoughts was he that he hardly realised what he was doing or indeed where he was, until he barrelled right into a firm human wall. The other man spluttered in surprise and raised his hands in mock defeat, his "steady on" and boyish grin somehow snapping Rafi back to the present.<p>

"Greg? What is it? Am I needed down on Darwin?" He sounded like he really hoped that wasn't the case, he had spoken to HR with the express desire to be kept as far away from that ward and from her and was physically possible, but if there was an emergency then he would have to bite the bullet regardless of his personal situation. A medical emergency was the only plausible explanation he could find for Greg's presence way up here in the middle of a shift and so he waited to hear the inevitable.

"No, actually..." Greg began but Rafi intercepted the thought finishing his sentence for him.

"Sahi sent you didn't she?" He tried to keep his tone emotionless but even he heard the glimmer of hope there.

Greg swallowed his affectionate shortening of Sahira's name as the bitter pill of his betrayal before he answered. "No, but this is about her." He replied quietly, hating what he was about to do but knowing that this was the only way that any of them could hope to move on. It was harder because in spite of the other man representing a clear obstacle to his relationship and feelings for Sahira, he was actually an Ok guy. He had tried really hard to treat him as she had, as the manifestation of the inanimate husband she had described fleetingly but this guy was thinking and feeling and the prize at the end of this battle was a big one, the biggest. Her.

"Oh... She told you about the custody case? She really shouldn't be burdening you with that, I know you're friends and everything but if you've come to plead her case..." Rafi replied but it was Greg's turn to interrupt.

"Rafi wait can we go somewhere and talk?" Greg hated how emotional this already was. He had hoped it would be a case of saying 'I'm with Sahira now' and that would be it but he could see this guy still held a torch which flickered with a tiny ray of hope that maybe he was here to play the mediator. How far from the truth that was...

"Why the serious face?" Rafi asked with a forced half-laugh as he motioned towards the staffroom and Greg followed him.

* * *

><p>"Look..." Greg started as they entered the room and stood awkwardly inside the closed door "I didn't come here to plead her case, but I do know about the custody case you've filed. That is why I'm here..." He paused wondering if the other man had any inclination yet as to where he was going with this.<p>

"What are you saying?" He seemed confused, the pieces of the jigsaw not quite falling into place yet.

"Sahira's legal counsel is my brother." He admitted, it was a starting place and it was also the truth.

"Your brother? Why would he be involved? Why would _you_ be?" He asked and if nothing else, that firm emphasis on 'you' told Greg that the penny was dropping or had.

"I know one of your concerns was that she hadn't told you..."

"_You_?" He asked again and the quiet shock was less dramatic than he had expected but more dangerous than he knew it was safe to assume it was.

"She didn't want it to affect things here at work and she also doesn't want to hurt you." He told him, lying through his teeth about Sahira's justification, to tell him the truth in this matter would only be playing into his hands, telling him she hadn't been entirely sure was like another nail in the coffin.

"_What?"_ His tone was one of disbelief.

"We wanted to be honest about this." Greg told him, his tone expressing apology.

"_This?" _

"The terms of the complaint..."

"Which were?"

"Look I understand you wanted to know who she left..." he paused trying to be as delicate as possible - as much as he might have wanted to, he had no interest in rubbing this in, "who's she's staying with." He amended quietly.

"Staying with? You make it sound like a girl's weekend away, like she's planning to come back. She's not is she? That is not what '_this_' is, is it?" He asked.

"No." There was no point in lying.

"Then what is it?"

"Excuse me?" Greg asked, knowing exactly what Rafi wanted.

"I want you to say what you are doing to my wife." He told him, his eyes flashing with anger for the first time.

"I'm not_ doing_ anything, we're not. She's staying with me and yes, we want to have a relationship but we haven't done anything wrong." He told him, doing everything but say the words.

"Nothing wrong? You steal a man's wife, you shack up with her, you..." he paused, the effort of even thinking about it almost too much "you take her into your bed and you've done nothing wrong?" He asked, laughing to stop himself from screaming at the thought of the images of the two of them he could suddenly see with perfect clarity: their quiet murmuring in the corridors, the laugh she seemed to reserve only for him, the way his hand would linger on hers when he took patient notes from her, her insistence on staying late, the thought of his tongue down her throat and his foul lust buried deep inside her. Those images just made him want to throw up.

"Look, we agreed that we wouldn't be intimate until the case was settled but I'm not going to lie to you. I _do_ tell her she's beautiful, I _do_ recognise that's she's a woman and that she needs to be treated like one and I_ have_ told her I love her and I mean that." Greg replied, hating that Rafi was trying to find ways to incriminate Sahira when the worst thing she had done so far was leave him.

"Oh so this is love?" Rafi laughed then and Greg did not appreciate the joke.

"Yeah it is." He told him, his tone bristling in defence.

"You think Sahira loves you?" Rafi asked and the question seemed genuine enough.

"I know she does, she told me so and I believe her." Greg hated that he had to justify himself to him.

"Really? I'll give you one month with my wife after the case, then we'll see. You know Sahi's a real spitfire in the bedroom – but then I guess you know that, being the man who takes care of her needs and everything – but she'll get bored of you soon enough. When she realises that you don't love the boys and that you're only interested in her body – a very beautiful body I agree- and when she realises that salaries combined, you couldn't afford the champagne lunch she treats herself to on a Saturday or the Mercedes X5 she's got her heart set on. She'll just use you for the sex, for your body, for her own gratification and then she'll be gone and you know, my door and my bed will always be open for her, especially since I'll know what lengths she'll be willing to go to just to please me. Then my wallet will be open to her and she'll be happy again. Yes, Sahi's pretty, but she sure is shallow." Rafi replied bitterly and the malice in his voice made the Irishman's blood boil but he said nothing, hard as it was.

"Oh come on, don't tell me this isn't all about the sex for you. I mean I don't blame you – it is good – when she hasn't 'got a headache' but do me favour and stop lying to yourself and her. Once you've had your fill of her, literally, you'll drop her." He told him lewdly and it was all Greg could do not to snap his neck where he stood.

"You" He managed, his breathing laboured with the amount of self restraint he was channelling at that moment "don't know me, you don't know us. I've done what you asked. I've told you. If you think that's score one to you then so be it, but as far as I can see, so far as my lawyer brother can see, us being honest can only be good for her." He finished heatedly, getting ready to leave. He had done what he had come here to do after all.

"You're right you know" he conceded as Greg turned his back. "I don't know you all that well but I do know my wife and she is still that after all, _my wife_." He told him, lording the fact over him.

"Yeah? Well I wouldn't be so sure of that for too much longer." Greg murmured quietly before he had time to think about what he was saying.

"Excuse me?" The information seemed to shock him, Greg guessed it would, it wasn't every day something like this happened to a man but after what he had said about Sahira, he could feel not even an ounce of remorse.

"Just don't be too confident about that is all I'm saying." He told him, thinking about how Caleb had intimated that he was heading straight to the court room to get the petition changed, odds were, even if Rafi called Harry Green right now, which looked doubtful giving the rolling wilderness of his eyes and the associational lack of coherence this suggested, the high paid brief could not do anything to undo the work of his brilliant brother. It looked like what his Da had said had been right after all, you couldn't argue with the law and in this case, a Douglas was making that law – that felt good.

Rafi said nothing as Greg turned to leave for a second time, not pleased with himself – in fact quite the contrary, he understood in the instantaneous hindsight of that revelation the repercussions this could have for Sahira – but he _was_ glad that he had indeed been honest with the other man for the first time since his arrival at Holby City General. He would head back down to Darwin and try to give Sahira the _Cliff Notes_ version of what had happened – at the least the parts where her husband hadn't as good as called her a cheap whore – and they could focus their energies on providing proof that she was the best parent to have custody of the children on a full time basis, starting with the appointment he was awaiting confirmation of with Hanssen to tell him exactly how to structure the cardiac ward.

"Greg..." Rafi called out, his voice hoarse.

Greg turned quickly towards him, so quickly in fact that he was completely unprepared for the anger of the other man, or the punch he landed to his mouth. Pain exploded to the area immediately and he knew what had happened. Rafi had caught the just healing split in his lip and the new skin had torn as if it was barely even there. He guessed now it wasn't. He was too shocked to react but he fought every impulse in his body to retaliate, only the thought of the fear in her eyes and that terrified scream from a couple of weeks ago stopping him and he realised then that he really had changed and she was the reason for that.

"Feel better?" He mumbled, pressing his fore and middle finger to the area in an attempt to staunch the bleeding as he retreated, not a defeated man just a changed one.

* * *

><p>Blood ran down his wrist, in a heavier flow than he would have thought possible in such a localised and tiny area as he exited the lift and stepped back out onto Darwin. Looking across the ward he could see no sign of her and wondered briefly if she was in theatre, he knew they had a busy day of routine procedures on today. He didn't know what he was really doing; he was already seeing spots before his eyes as his body rushed to compensate for the blood loss he was sustaining, however small. He knew only that he had to get this patched up and fast, preferably before she saw him and realised what had happened.<p>

"Mr Douglas what happened?" The rich, comforting voice of Elliot asked, his tone immediately concerned as he placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"If I said I slipped would you believe me?" He attempted to laugh but winced as he felt his skin split further.

"Mm well, you know I'm ever the optimist but I'm not sure even you're that convincing." He replied cryptically, not for the first time.

"I try." Greg told him, pushing his fingers more firmly against the now profuse bleed.

"Well I think we have to get you patched up." Elliot chided slightly as he looked at the rota for a free practitioner.

"Oh great," the sarcastic voice of Jac Naylor spoke up from behind him "just what we need – our surgical registrar's looking like they've walk right off the set of '_Zombie Land_ the movie'. Excellent publicity for the hospital I must say, 'come to Holby you can be part of your very own horror movie' - I just see the Trust adopting that by-line now. Just brilliant, Hanssen will love it._ Goodie_." She finished with a spiteful smile as he shot her a look over his shoulder.

"_What_ happened to you?" She asked, her concern sounding false as always.

"I slipped." He mumbled again, unconvincingly and she spotted it immediately.

"Ah you slipped... into a fist?" She quirked her eyebrow in that ironic way she had.

"Yes... Well whatever happened I was just saying that we should get Mr Douglas fixed up, don't you think Ms Naylor?" Elliot asked thankfully redirecting the conversation again. "Is Marie-Claire free?" He asked absent mindedly.

"I'll do it." Her voice was quiet behind him and his eyes flicked closed and then opened quickly as he realised he had been unable to hide this from her.

"No it's Ok, Marie-Claire can do it." He protested, not ready to explain yet.

"Are we going to argue about this?" She asked as he turned to face her, his eyes defiant. He had to wonder why she was bringing their personal life onto the ward like this but then he realised that was exactly what he had done. As he turned towards her, her arms were folded and she had that 'don't mess with me' look on her face which he found so damned intriguing. He shook his head firmly and began to follow her, not failing to notice Jac's snide, knowing smile as they passed.

* * *

><p>She said nothing as they headed towards one of the vacant beds and she pulled the curtains closed, but she shot him a look which was a mixture of concern and...Something else. "Stay here." She murmured a warning as she went to retrieve a suture kit.<p>

She was back in no time before he had even had chance to consider going anywhere and now her features had softened a little. She gloved up as was practice and took out some gauze. She wadded it up a little and pressed it to his bleeding lip.

"Tell me this wasn't Rafi." She whispered aware that they were on the ward but seemingly feeling the curtains were enough of a barrier. He went to speak but she pushed the gauze against his lip more firmly and she saw the truth in his eyes.

"Don't speak." She told him and his eyes sparkled with mischief as he went to protest and again she exerted more pressure.

"I'm going to kill him." She muttered as she dropped the bloodied gauze into the kidney dish on the bed and concentrated on threading the suture. He was unable to say anything so simply waited for her to fill the silence, which it seemed, she had no problem doing.

"God I hate this." She murmured as she set about putting in the two stitches required to fix his already battered lip.

"What happened?" She asked quietly as she dared to run her fingers over his cheek bones, in a gesture of affection.

"I told him, just like I said I would." Greg told her honestly.

"So you told him and what? The two of you got into a fight?" She asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

"I like that logic" he replied sarcastically, not appreciating that she immediately thought he had reciprocated any violence, "but I think you'll find I'm the only one with a split lip. I'm a lover not a fighter now remember." He gave her a charming wink and she suppressed a smile.

"I'm sorry he hit you." She whispered as she used a fresh piece of gauze to wipe away the dried blood on his lip, noticing the bruising there already.

"Had to be expected, I mean it hurts like Hell but you were definitely worth it." He smiled, wincing at the pain it caused him.

"Jesus, what is it with people and this lip?" He asked, touching his finger to the stitches.

"Hmm I don't know, maybe..." She paused straining to listen for any intrusions to this moment, "they know how much I like to kiss it better." She smiled leaning forward and pressing a tender kiss to his lips but just as she began to deepen it, she felt him pull away and she tried not to let her shock show.

"What else did he say?" She asked after a moment in which her dejection was piqued by anger.

"It doesn't matter." He told her, confirming her suspicions.

"Yes, I think it does."

"Sahira..."

"Ok fine, you don't want to tell me? I'll just go up there and ask him myself." She told him twisting away from him.

"Sahira...Wait."

"What could be that bad Greg?" She asked trying to encourage his honesty.

"I have never heard anyone be so disrespectful, it made me... The only thing that stopped me was you, thinking of you..." He knew he made little sense.

"What did he say?" She asked again.

"Is it true?" He mused, wondering to himself more than anything.

"Is what true? You know, you're not making much sense." Sahira seemed genuinely confused, he didn't blame her.

"Promise me you'll be honest with me whatever happens, whatever I'm about to ask you."

"I thought we already made that promise, so come on – ask me."

"Is this just physical? Are you only in this for the sex?" He asked, hating the question.

"What? Greg we haven't... and I know it's been hard and I know when we do... It'll be amazing, but I'm here and I want to be with you. Not just because I'm insanely attracted to you – which you know I am - but because I want to have a life with you. I love you, I thought you understood that I mean that."

"You know, I can't get you an X5... not for a while anyway." He told her with a little laugh.

"An X5? Oh...Oh. I get it. Rafi made me out to be the materialistic bitch you all thought I was when I came here right?"

"I never thought that, but you _are_ a lady, you deserve nice things if you want them."

"The only things I want are my boys and you. That's it. I don't want an X5 that was just Rafi's idea of an excessive make-up present. We haven't had a fight yet... have we?" She asked uncertainly.

"We've had a lot of fights." He replied warmly, thinking of the number of times they had come to blows.

"Nothing that requires a ridiculously overpriced car." She smile, seeing the hope in his eyes again.

"How about a champagne lunch? I could stretch to that. It'd be in bed and I'd dictate your wardrobe of course..." He murmured suggestively and just the lilt in his voice made her body shake.

"Hmm, sounds like a perfect way to celebrate a successful custody case doesn't it?" She asked as he moved closer to her, his hands settling on her waist.

"I like your thinking Miss Shah." He told her, closing the distance between them.

Right at the moment their lips met, his phone beeped and they broke apart so they could check it. That was enough, suddenly they were both bitingly aware of their surroundings again. He clicked the central toggle and opened the email reply from Hanssen.

"It's Hanssen." He confirmed for her benefit.

"_Always the small problem of Hanssen." _She muttered in annoyance.

"Actually, this time, I don't think he's such a problem – small or otherwise." He told her hinting at exactly how big of problem Hanssen had really been in the past before sending back a reply accepting the appointment he had been offered.

It had been a tough day and things had moved quickly. He had finally revealed the true extent of his feelings for her to her husband and he was about to take on Sweden's answer to God on Earth. Any other man would have justifiably cut his losses and run, but not Greg Douglas. He had done that so many times in the past but then there had never been any worth staying for, until now. So he would go through these motions, he would help her answer as many of Rafi's complaints as was possible because in the end, making her happy was the only thing that mattered. When it came down to it, everything he did was for her...

* * *

><p><strong>So there it is, sorry it took me longer than I first thought. I did some more work on it on Monday and got to about 3000 words, then had to go to work yesterday so wrote some more during Holby (to distract myself from Greg's impending departure) and then had to edit it out today. To this end, I hope all the edits are caught, if not – please forgive me. <strong>

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter which compromises part two of the four part sequence of chapters making up this particular section of the story. Please, feel free to let me know what you thought because your reviews make me smile. Now that Greg's gone and Sahira is also gone I guess it's our job as fanfiction writers to keep them alive on here. I'll do my best in this one but come on everyone – let's get some Grahira love on here. **

**Thank you as always for your dedication and interest in this one, it touches my heart. **

**Love always, **

_**X~Michelle~X **_


	9. I Fought the Law

**Hello lovely people, **

**As always thank you for the interest and support on this one, it really does mean the world to me. So this chapter will be part three of the four part section I have been teasing you with and consists of the court case which should (without giving too much away of course) start moving this story in the direction we all know it should have always been on screen namely #Grahiraforever! **

**Since I tweeted that my inspiration was low and had a reply from the lovely jeffiner1892 (sorry I'm not sure of your pen name on here) you can rest assured that the reason I felt able to begin work on this is because she came up with this title so thank you to her for supplying the song title which was perfect for the theme of the chapter - taken from the song of the same name by The Clash – I'm not very musically current or otherwise so I'm trusting you; Credit where it's due. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics. Please feel free to let me know what you thought because strangely reviews or tweets are like fuel when I'm running low... **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"Has Caleb gone already?" She asked walking into the living room and hardly even acknowledging that Greg was there. He didn't blame her, she was nervous and she had every right to be. Of course, she was also asking a question she already knew the answer to and he could forgive that too.<p>

"He left half an hour ago, he has a meeting in chambers with Harry Green to ensure that both parties are on the same page regarding the new claim." Greg replied, quoting his brother almost word for word.

"I just wanted to ask him, I mean I wanted to check whether this is really Ok." She told him, signalling to the black dress she wore which, he noticed, was unzipped. So that was where he came in.

"Sahira you look great." He assured her though he knew it wasn't his assurance she sought. Even this didn't hurt him, Caleb probably was the right person to direct that question to – in this instance and no other.

"I just feel like... Oh I don't know... It's silly really."

"If you're thinking it, I know it can't be silly." He told her with a smile and, thankfully despite her worry he earned one back.

"Well are you sure I shouldn't wear something a bit more... 'Mumsy'?" She asked quietly, looking down at the dress she usually wore to meetings with the trust with worried eyes.

"Sahira, Caleb went over this with you. You shouldn't try to look like you're trying too hard to play a role you fill naturally in these clothes, as a professional woman. That's the whole point, you don't want it to look like you're willing to be a stay at home housewife, you want to look like you care – which anyone can see that you do - but that you're also a working woman. If you really want I can go and get my paint pot, daub a little paint on your cheek for good measure, wouldn't want you looking too perfect " he grinned boyishly and she poked at his ribs " _not_ that imperfection is possible for you, but you have to start believing that this is _not_ a criminal trial. You are _not_ a bad person." He told her, placing a steadying hand to her shoulder and making her look at him. "Ok?"

She nodded but didn't look convinced. "I feel more like a _desperate _housewife than a perfect one right now." She told him and she raised an eyebrow at his wide smile. "What?" She asked, perturbed by that unfathomably enticing grin.

"It's just, you look perfect to me and if you smile", he paused waiting for her to do so, "you certainly don't look desperate..." He told her and instead of another poke in the ribs, she leant forward and pressed a small, grateful kiss to his mouth.

"You know what I'm saying though, I'm sure I should go there looking like an actual housewife rather than a desperate one." She sighed, knowing how ridiculous this all must sound, but finding herself to be unable to be anything other than finicky about the little details she could control.

"Sahira listen to me Ok? In that room the judge is not going to be looking at what you're wearing, they're going to be considering whether you are the right person to take care of the boys. Now, I know it might seem like he is, but one thing Rafi's not doing is calling you an unfit mother, no one's calling you that. He's saying you're a challenged mother and what you need to do is have your most confident face on and show him and the judge that those challenges aren't a problem for you. The only thing that matters is showing that you love those boys. I can see it in every fibre of your being and so will they. You could wear Bo-Bo the clown's costume and still show them that. D'you hear me?" He asked and she he saw the first of the day's tears sparkling in her eyes.

He pulled her close then and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, comforting her when she needed it most and trying to transfer some extra reserves of strength into her, Lord knew she would need them.

"Why are you so amazing?" She murmured against his shoulder, not quite ready to move yet.

"Hey, I'm Greg Douglas – Amazing is my middle name." He told her charmingly.

"Not too confident then are you?" She asked as she turned her back towards him "zip me? She asked and he complied.

"There. I told you, perfect." He murmured, the scent of the perfume and the sadness in her eyes combining to create a state of madness within him, one in which he wished he could just hold her forever.

"Thank you." She replied shakily, drawing in a breath in an attempt to steel herself against the oncoming assault she would soon face.

"Ready to go?" He asked as she picked up her handbag and checked the sweep of her up-do one final time.

"Saying 'no' doesn't make this go away does it?"

"I wish it did." He told her earnestly.

"Then let's go and get my children back."

"That's the spirit." He replied, locking up.

As he got into the driver's seat, he just hoped that her optimism paid off because any other outcome than the one she had her hopes pinned to, he just wasn't sure she would survive, or indeed if _they_ would...

* * *

><p>She couldn't sit still though she had tried since the clerk had shown them to the 'holding area'. She hated to think that she was being kept like some exhibit in a show she had no desire to take part in. She had tried sitting on the slightly plush chair at one end of the small corridor and for a while, holding Greg's hand had been sufficient distraction but then, the longer they had to wait, the more unsettled she became. It had started when she had seen a woman rushing towards the staircase at the far end of the corridor her sharp suit a silver flash as she whipped by, her wig in one hand as she attempted to shake out her robes with the other. A very late barrister. Seeing her had suddenly made this seem real and she wondered if when she walked into court room three hundred, she would find Caleb and Harry Green dressed similarly, their outfits expressing the severity of what this had become. Of course, she had watched hundreds of court cases: murder trials, domestic abuse cases and... custody cases on the television but the thing was, as traumatic as they always seemed, the actors could take off the garb of a wife beater, or the heinous murderer or the <em>challenged mother<em> at the end of the day, but she couldn't .Once this decision was made, it was final. There was no opportunity to reshoot it or to change the ending. Either the judge found in her favour or they did not and that hardly bore thinking about. What sealed her panic though, was the moment she saw the door to a courtroom down the hallway burst open and a distraught woman ran from the room, tears streaming from her eyes. Just visible through the door, was the figure of a man who held a small infant in his arms. As the woman hurtled past them, Sahira heard the words 'you can't have her', a clearly as anything. Her heart seemed to drop right out of her chest and she found breathing difficult. Although she hadn't for a while, she pulled her hand free of Greg's and clasped them together, assuming a firm attitude of prayer. '_If you're forgiving, then forgive me. Please. Don't take my children'. _She silently prayed, not sure how much right she had to beg in this way.

That had been the final straw, she had been up and out of her seat, pacing and staring at the door to the room they would soon be called into and wondering where Rafi was. Probably in another 'holding area' somewhere. She wondered where the boys were, what he had told them. She wondered if she would ever see them again and tears began to prick in her eyes.

Greg watched her suffering, his own heart feeling like it was bleeding as he realised once and for all that this day was probably make or break in their relationship. If she did not gain custody of the boys, he had a feeling she would never be able to look at him with anything but contempt. He just wished Caleb would come out and tell her what on Earth was going on. Their sitting with the judge was due to start in fifteen minutes and still she was in the dark.

As if he was a mind reader, Caleb appeared from a door to the left of the courtroom and Sahira stilled, becoming so silent that if a pin had been dropped it would have echoed around the whole space.

* * *

><p>She was mildly relieved to see that Caleb was still wearing his navy suit, it comforted her in some small respect, but any mild hope she had been feeling dissipated when she saw his severe expression. She could not find her voice and was glad when Greg spoke up.<p>

"Well?"

"Dr Raza accepted the change of petition." His brother murmured, shooting him a dark expression which told him that perhaps he knew about his little Freudian slip.

"Accepted?" She whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

"Yes, he was _quite _ambushed by the whole thing. He's floundering a little and understandably shocked and upset by this turn of events but he understands that he is no longer the claimant but rather the defendant, I think he feels that you've already gained the advantage." Caleb paused a moment before adding "That's why he intends to have the full detail of your relationship with Greg exposed in the courtroom. He wants to prove beyond the shadow of a doubt that your relationship is inappropriate. Be prepared for some awkward questions. I'm really sorry for all of this."

"That's fine, it's not like I wasn't expecting this. I'll do what I have to do, I just want my boys back." Sahira told him resolutely.

"Do you want to see them before we go in?" Caleb asked, knowing that this was an unnecessary question. Simply the way her eyes lit up at the mention of them, at the possibility of seeing them, made him sure that taking this case and fighting her cause was worthwhile. Her love for those boys was undeniable.

"They're here?" Her voice was cracking with the emotion of this revelation.

"Yeah they're with their Nanny... Honestly I don't know why Mr Green advised Dr Raza to bring them here, but they're just down the hall, first door on the right. You have ten minutes before the sitting if you want to say hello." Caleb replied, still pondering this tactical move on Mr Green's part. What did it really benefit the case to have the children here? Or was it simply that they had wanted this scenario to arise, to taunt her with their proximity only to rip them away.

"I can do that? Just walk down there and see them?" She sounded unsure.

"They're your children, of course you can see them. This is not a criminal trial Sahira, you are not in the wrong and you have done nothing to harm them, so go right ahead." He smiled his reassurance, watching as she returned to where Greg sat watching on the periphery looking not only helpless but awkward.

"You don't mind do you?" She asked, staring longingly down the hallway towards the door on the right.

"What are you still doing standing here talking to me?" He laughed a little "Go and see them, I have to talk to Cay anyway." He told her as he watched her practically bite the bit to get to them.

* * *

><p>When she was safely out of earshot, Greg turned to Caleb with a serious expression.<p>

"So come on, what's the real story?"

"I didn't like to mention to her, but Dr Raza was attempting to make it a condition of any access rights that Sahira might gain to the boys after the judge makes a final decision that she has to stay married to him in order to have those rights, meaning that your relationship would continue to be extra marital even if he did appear to be letting her go. Harry Green, whatever else he may be, is also bound by the code of practice and he knew immediately that to set such conditions was ludicrous and that to attempt to put it to the judge was basically asking for dismissal of the case. That's the other thing of course..." He paused.

"What's the judge like Cay?"

"Well, we got drawn with Judge Carter. Judge _Rosemary_ Carter." He qualified and watched as Greg's eyes lit up.

"I mean don't get me wrong, Judge Carter's as much a spitfire as anyone else. Only, word on the court circuit is she just got out of a very similar situation as you two find yourselves in after her affair with a barrister was exposed. Don't bank on it, but I'm thinking the word 'sympathetic' might just come into play here." Caleb told him, placing a comforting hand to his older brother's shoulder. "I'm going to try Greg. I'm going to try my damnedest." He assured him and Greg knew that whatever else might happen, this he could count on.

"I know you will little one." Greg replied, reverting so easily back to the pet name his brother had had when he was five.

* * *

><p>Sahira opened the door without even thinking and before she knew it, or could prepare for it, she found herself face to face with Rafi. She tried, Lord knew she did but she just couldn't help the slight wavering in her resolution and she knew he could read that in her face.<p>

"I'll leave you to it." He told her quietly, stepping outside. His movement had removed the obstacle he had posed to her field of vision and suddenly there they were, sitting on the carpet bent over a jigsaw puzzle as their Nanny, a new girl by Sahira's reckoning, looked on with suspicious eyes.

"Hey baby bears." Sahira spoke quietly using the greeting she so often had and receiving the reaction she had hoped for.

Both her boys quickly abandoned their jigsaw and Sunni was wrapped around her legs before she could even catch her breath whilst Indy toddled towards her with a wide smile.

"Mummy!" He sounded happy and his smile was infectious as she folded her eldest son towards her and sank to her knees.

For a moment the three of them just clung to each other in a heap, none of them finding any words to express how good it felt just to cuddle like this. Sunni's head rested on her right shoulder whilst Indy scrambled into her lap and she gathered him close with her free arm, delighting in the familiarity of their scent after days apart.

"Mummy, where have you been? We missed you." Sunni told her, his voice a little accusatory and it made her feel worse, it also reminded her of the reality of the situation.

"I'm sorry baby. Mummy had to go away for a while for work, I missed you so much though." She told him and she really meant it. Leaving her unhappy marriage had been hard, but leaving them had been excruciating.

Sunni looked up at her then with his six-going-on-sixty face and wise eyes and he saw what she had always done her best to hide from them and from him her sensitive son especially – his mother's tears.

"Daddy said the place where you went was a bad place. Why was it bad Mummy? Does it have bad people in it?" He asked and the question broke her heart. How could Rafi do this to their sons, how could he be so cruel?

"No baby. I promise you there are no bad people where I've been. The only bad thing is that I couldn't take my baby bears with me, but I think I'll be able to soon." She assured him, fixing her 'Mummy's fine' smile for him. She knew he wouldn't believe it, he had seen it too many times in his six years, had comforted her with cuddles too often.

"You mean me and Indy can come too?" He asked hopefully and she smiled at his grammar. He was so wise that she often forgot he was just a small boy.

"I hope so." She told him pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"So what have you two been up to?" She asked, hoping to distract herself with their chit-chat.

"Indy wrote his name in pasta." Sunni told her in his proud big brother voice and Sahira fixed her widest surprised smile on as she leant down to the little bundle clinging to her midriff.

"You did?" and Indy nodded enthusiastically. "My clever boy." She cooed as she tickled her son a little, thinking of the piece of art which was probably taped to the fridge. Those were the things she would miss if she didn't get... but she would.

"What else?" She asked and just as Sunni was about to go on, there was a knock on the door and a clerk popped her head around the door giving her a two minute warning.

"Listen Ok, Mummy has to go and talk to Daddy now so I need you to stay here with..." She broke off, looking towards the blonde girl at the other end of the room "Gwen" She supplied quickly, not holding eye contact.

"I need you to stay here with Gwen until I come back Ok?" She tried to use her most optimistic voice but she could hear the holes.

"Don't go away again Mummy!" Indy exclaimed.

"I'll be back soon, I promise sweethearts." She tried to assure them wondering if she could even promise that anymore.

She scooped Indy off her with as much heart wrenching as actual wrenching and began to stand but before she could, Sunni grabbed her, throwing his arms around her neck and burying his head into her shoulder.

"I love you Mummy." He told her, not letting go for what felt like an eternity.

"I love you both too. Kisses, quickly, come on." She told them, opening her arms and almost sobbing as they both pressed eager kisses to her cheeks.

"I'll be back." She promised again as she shut the door behind her.

* * *

><p>It was all she could do not to slide down the wall and fall into an emotional stupor and never had she been gladder of Greg's presence than in that moment when, without even being asked he was there, holding her up.<p>

"Why did he bring them here?" She murmured, trying her hardest not to cry as she clung to him.

"I don't know." He muttered, his anger palpable.

"What if I lose them, I can't bear it Greg, it hurts too much." She told him, her voice frantic and panicked.

"That's not going to happen." He assured her with some conviction and he knew this was a foolish promise but it was the only one he could make.

"How do you..." She went to reply, but the sound of his pager interrupted.

He retrieved it from his belt loop and looked down at it venomously.

"Please..." She begged, "Don't leave me."

"Sahira I have to. It's Mr George, he's been rushed into theatre, I'm on call. You know I have to. But as soon as I'm done, I'll be right back. I promise. You'll be fine." He told her, pulling her close for one final reassuring kiss, which she barely returned.

As he rushed towards the exit cursing the NHS, he passed Caleb who looked utterly flabbergasted to see him heading in the wrong direction.

"Don't let me down little one." Greg called over his shoulder and then he was gone.

Sahira hardly had time to process the shock of finding herself preparing to face Rafi and a judge alone before Caleb was at her side and they were being ushered into courtroom three hundred.

He squeezed her upper arm a little as they entered and she took some small comfort from this gesture.

"Deep breath." He told her. "Let's do this."

* * *

><p>Sitting opposite the Right and Honourable Judge Rosemary Carter, Sahira couldn't say she was exactly comforted by the presence of another female. In fact she was probably more afraid of losing now. Especially since the judgement she would face would be woman of woman, probably mother of mother. But it was more than that. It was that this whole thing had that informal feel, whilst the results would impact on the rest of her life forever. They were sitting around a conference table much as they might if this had been a meeting with the trustees and even the judge wore a simple suit. This was nothing like the court cases on the television, she finally understood that as she noticed the absence of the swear-in or the jury. It was literally her pitted against Rafi and at the end of this battle there would be only one winner, a winner decided by a woman who looked as if she had been around the block and back again – there would be no messing with her and she decided, as the forty-something woman looked at her with her piercingly green eyes, that was probably a good thing. There was something forgiving there, something understanding even hiding in the tiny crow's foot at the corner of her left eye and a little flame of hope ignited within her.<p>

"Ok, so..." He voice was formal and news-reader-ish but there was also softness, something which sounded like tiredness to a woman who was equally tired by this process. "The case in point is Shah versus Raza, correct?" She asked, flicking her eyes up from the petition in front of her and looking at the two parties for confirmation.

Sahira glanced quickly at Rafi who looked like he was going to say something, but a sharp hiss from Harry prevented it and he nodded curtly, as did she. She felt marginally better hearing the judge cite her as the claimant, it made her feel in control.

"Before we begin, I would like to take this opportunity to define the difference between my courtroom and the criminal justice system you may be more used to. Here, I do not expect any big legal stunts to be pulled" she took a moment to throw a stern expression in the direction of both counsellors present "in fact, your counsel are only here in an advisory capacity and should not be relied on to relay case details to me. I expect you both to present yourselves in your best light. As such I must warn you that I will not tolerate common slander in this room and should I see fit I will refer this case to separate disciplines meaning that this process will become far longer drawn out, which I am sure neither one of you wants. Speak the truth and let's see if we can't resolve this case in an amicable manner, are we clear?" She asked and both parties nodded, accepting these terms.

"I see the petition is for divorce and custody of your two children Sunil and Indiana. It seems to me you're already some way towards leading separate lives. There are no joint bank accounts or commitments and then there is your decision to retain your maiden name Miss Shah. What was the reason for this decision?" She asked, pausing to allow Sahira to speak.

"It had to do with professionalism. We're both doctors you see and we didn't want our marriage to become a deciding factor in any career successes we might celebrate." She told her honestly, thinking about that conversation, had two nights before their wedding, curled up on a rainy Thursday when he had tried to persuade her to take his name and she had put up every resistance she could logically think of to ensure that she did not lose herself in marrying him. Of course as things had become more complicated the professional distance had been a benefit also. Especially now.

"But I understand it has become an issue in your current employment. You both work at Holby City General Hospital do you not?" She asked, her tone clipped.

"Yes your honour." They murmured simultaneously.

"Am I right in assuming that the cause of your marital break down began as a result of your enduring employment at Holby City and a resultant indiscretion?" The judge asked.

"Yes. My petition for divorce is on the grounds of my own unreasonable behaviour – my extra-marital feelings for another man in my workplace." Sahira recited these words perfectly, hardly daring not to after the time Caleb had taken to prepare them.

"It interests me that you chose the word 'feelings' – Please explain that."

"I say 'feelings' because our relationship is currently an emotional one." Sahira told her, knowing that this would not be the end of her questions in this regard.

"Your request for divorce is of immediate and absolute nature, is this correct?"

"It is."

"So, for the purposes of clarification, you are willing to make the financial commitment to this type of divorce for an emotional relationship?" The judge asked and Sahira was sure she saw a flicker of recognition in the older woman's eyes. "There is a reason why you read about 'quickie divorces in _OK! Magazine _Miss Shah." She added and that empathy was gone.

"No your honour. I am willing to make the commitment so that I can have a full relationship with Greg Douglas and I am asking to be granted custody of my child because they need their mother." She told her, knowing immediately what the retaliation would be.

"Do they not also need their father?" She asked and Sahira knew it was an equally valid question.

"Of course they do and I am not attempting to assert that I love them more than Rafi does. I could never do that, it simply isn't possible to put into words how much we love our children. That's not what this is about, I haven't come here to prove that I love them more, I just need them with me." She told her as honestly as she could.

"Forgive me Miss Shah, but isn't one of the terms of the custodial complaint bound up with your inherent absence from their lives?" Judge Carter asked and Sahira thought it was really rather more viciously termed than it needed to be.

"I have not been absent from my children's lives, I work a lot of hours, I have to be away from them. I work for my family." She told her, her own position on the subject firm.

"You realise of course that if I am to grant you custody, I am going to need proof, beyond the shadow of a doubt that you have made answer to all of your husband's concerns and that with you, the children will really be in the best place."

"I understand and I have already cut my working hours back having relinquished responsibility of the cardiac trauma unit at the hospital to my colleague..." She made to continue but Rafi interrupted.

"She means her lover." It was a childish comment but frankly he felt like sniping a little given that her 'counsel' had dropped the bomb of the altered petition only half an hour before the case had been seated in front of a judge.

"Objection your honour." Caleb intersected.

"On what grounds Mr Douglas?" The judge asked, already on edge now that the dramatics had begun to surface.

"Relevance your honour. My client knows that she will be expected to divulge details pertaining to her relationship with Gregory Douglas, but the fact that he has taken on her cardiac trauma unit and the responsibilities this comes with has nothing to do with any personal relationship they share. It is simply a professional rearrangement."

"Noted. Dr Raza you will please refrain from slanderous commentary in this courtroom." Carter warned.

Rafi looked disgruntled but gave a nod of acceptance.

"Please continue Miss Shah."

"Since stepping back from my CTU duties, I have now resumed my contracted hours meaning that when I'm on a day shift I should finish by six, in time to give the boys their dinner. We have to rotate but for the most part I have not been assigned night shifts and if I am, arrangements can be made."

"It seems to me that although your counsel has caused these issues to be entwined, for which you must neither thank nor blame him, I would like to deal with the claims in isolation. It seems to me the justification for divorce also lies at the heart of the custodial battle you two are engaged in, so if we can proceed to resolve this divorce _amicably,_ then perhaps I can begin to pick my way through what is left to dispute and therefore to resolve. Do the counsel agree?" She shot a look at both lawyers who murmured their acquiescence.

"So we have already established that the cause of marital breakdown was unreasonable behaviour – that is to say an extra-marital relationship on the part of Miss Shah. What I would like to know Dr Raza, is why exactly on your original petition did you state that the relationship was inappropriate as far as your children were concerned when at the time the petition was filed and served, you were not privy to the identity of your wife's 'lover' as you so aptly put it and how, given that one of the terms of your complaint lies with the revelation of Mr Douglas' identity, could you determine the extent to which your wife's new relationship was appropriate for you sons to be around?" Carter was accusatory and Sahira instantly felt guilty, Rafi was entitled to his own opinions after all.

"I'm sorry your honour, but I am a man of traditional values. I married my wife because I loved her – and still do, because I thought that we could have a full and happy life together and because I believed that she would be the perfect mother to my children. It is my firm belief that children should grow up in a nuclear family, with both parents present. My sons should not have to live in a strange environment with a man they barely know, that I believe, makes me justified in the opinion that Sahira's _lover_ regardless of who he is, is an inappropriate influence for my children. I don't want them to grow up..." He paused, falling silent and Sahira couldn't help but think about Rafi's parents. His mother who lived in Essex and had all her life, now rambling around a multi-bedroom house with nothing but her memories for company and his father who now lived in Cambridge with his fifth wife and suddenly she understood why he felt the way that he did. He simply did not want that broken environment for their sons and she appreciated that.

"It wouldn't be like them Rafi, I promise you it wouldn't." She tried to assure him, noticing that it was the first time she had directly addressed him all day and in fact since she had left.

He was silent for a moment as he shifted in his seat, turning towards her so that she could not fail to see the pain in his eyes. "Why _him _Sahi? Of all men, why _him_?" He asked desperately and the way he said the words cut her like a knife.

She paused for a moment, knowing that if she was going to prove herself, she would have to be entirely honest. "Greg listens to me, he understands me, he accepts that I'm not perfect and he doesn't expect me to be something I'm not. He loves me just for being me and I love him for the same. He makes me happy." She told him, hating that she had to even say the words. It was Rafi's job as her husband to make her feel that way and yet he hadn't in so long.

"Didn't I make you happy Sahi?" He asked his tone both reminiscent and regretful.

"You_ did_ Rafi. That's the point, we're in the past and we have been for a long time. I couldn't take it anymore, I could be with you and still feel totally alone. I needed something... I needed Greg." She told him, her voice pained.

"So your relationship with Mr Douglas stemmed from your loneliness?" Judge Carter asked and suddenly, they both became aware of where they were again.

"Yes. We had been friends for a long time before any of this. We didn't get off to the best start, frankly I thought Greg was a maverick, perhaps not even that, but then I got to see him for the kind and loving person he really is and we became good friends. For the longest time it was just talking, only talking. Then he intimated that he felt something more for me and I began to spend more time with him. It made me realise that there was something missing from my marriage and the more I tried to deny it, the stronger that feeling became until I couldn't handle being alone anymore."

"So an affair between the two of you commenced?" The judge questioned further.

"We..." She paused trying to think of the best way to word this. "We kept getting thrown together and something would spark. It could be a situation with a patient, or the threat that he was leaving or that I was, one time he cornered me after he became convinced that I had been killed in an RTA and it would always lead to... Really passionate kisses, just kisses and each time, I told myself that I couldn't get involved, that it wouldn't happen again. I had a husband and children to think about and my first duty was to them. But things at home didn't get any better and the further away from Rafi I felt, the closer it drew me to Greg, until one day, I snapped. He asked me give him a chance and I said yes. At the time I had no idea what I was saying or agreeing to. I never thought that we'd end up here or that this would happen. I don't want to hurt Rafi anymore than I have already but I _do_ want my children and that's why I'm here fighting for them, because I believe that they could have a good life this way and still have both their parents in their lives. Just because we don't make each other happy anymore, doesn't mean that we can't make sure that they have the best life possible but I can't live without them..." She paused, turning to Rafi, "please don't make me."

"Sahi, you're talking as if you think that I _could _live without them, you know how much I love them. You know I would do anything to make you happy again because you're still the person that does that for me." He told her, not even believing it himself.

* * *

><p>The judge was quiet. She knew that in a case like this, it was better to let things take their course. Often a sparring couple did not need the provision of court when things were relatively amicable between them, but sometimes, it was just a case of one parent not accepting that the other was the better option for their children. Right now, Rosemary couldn't decide with whom her favour laid. Clearly, the mother was the cause of the breakdown, as she had been in her own marriage, but that also meant that she had felt unloved and undervalued. She could sympathise with that. With regard to their children, she sensed that there was not one who loved them more than the other and honestly there situations were similar, not that Dr Raza would admit that. The truth was that they were both single parents, both professionals -doctors no less - and this meant awarding custody was a more difficult task. The only way she could see around it was if the female's relationship truly was provably inappropriate, in which case the children would have to reside with their father.<p>

"Do you remember what you said to me the night Sunni was born, when I so tired that I didn't think that I could go on? Do you?" She prompted.

"I told you that it didn't matter how tired you were, when he was born you'd forget because nothing was stronger..." He was silent for the longest time and the judge had to prompt him to continue.

"Than a mother's love." He finished quietly and then he understood. For her, there was no possible alternative than walking out of here with those children, but he felt that pain in equal measure.

"Please Sahi... Can't we try again?" He asked, a last ditch attempt on what he knew was a failed marriage.

"I love him Rafi, I do and I'm asking you to let me go." She told him quietly, her heart breaking as she saw the coldness in his eyes.

"If you expect me to give up our children just like that to be raised by that man then you'd be crazy." He told her, turning back to Harry Green and murmuring something to him.

"My client will sign the certificate on the condition that he is granted full and sole custody of Sunil and Indiana with immediate effect." Harry told the judge moments later and Sahira stifled a sob.

"Your _client_ Mr Green, will proceed with the custodial dispute as was agreed in chambers. Now Dr Raza are you signing this certificate or not?" Judge Carter asked sternly.

"You have no joint assets aside from your children and I see no reason why this should proceed to divorce court unless you intend to make this anymore difficult than it already is. So it's your choice, because I am this close to dismissing this case and that way neither you get the outcome you seek." She told him, raising her hand a making an inch with her thumb and fore-finger to emphasise her point.

He paused, mulling this over for a moment before he looked right at Sahira again "is this really what you want? For things to be this way between us?" He asked.

"I just want it to stop Rafi because I can't do this anymore."

"Then I'll sign it." He told the judge, who pushed the pre-finalised certificate towards him.

As he signed it, he felt like he was signing away a part of his life, but he found that he simply could not recall a single happy memory from recent months. There had only ever been fighting and sleeping back to back and he knew that this was the best thing for them, if only he could say the same for their children. As far as he was concerned, they had just lost their mother.

Sahira took the certificate adding to Rafi's her own signature and just like that, the judge decreed that their marriage was over. It was faster than it had taken to exchange vows and even more cold and painless than she had imagined. She didn't know what she _had_ expected – for the ring Rafi still wore to vaporise perhaps but there it was, still on his finger... But it couldn't have been more final. She had paid heavily and she suspected her debt was not yet settled, but she had her Decree Absolute, but that was only step one.

She drew out a slow breath as she looked into the depths of Caleb's eyes, perhaps seeking the approval of his absent older brother, but she could not find him. In place of what she really sought, she found a tentative smile and she knew then that though the battle had been won, there was still a war to be fought.

"Ok, having settled the first grievance between you I am going to suggest that this session be brought to recess for the duration of forty five minutes. In this time, Mr Green please ensure that your character witness is in place for our next session. Mr Douglas I would advise you to converse with Miss Shah regarding the position she may find herself in, should a testimony not be submitted in her favour." Judge Carter rose as did the four of them and the session was dismissed.

* * *

><p>Sahira barely held it together as they made their way out of the courtroom and towards the holding area again. So panicked was she that she could not even see straight let alone think that way.<p>

"Why didn't you say anything?" She asked, her voice haggard.

"I hardly had time this morning. Harry must have found someone to speak on Dr Raza's behalf early this morning and I couldn't tell you when you got here because I thought it was more important for you to see your children..." He paused and the stricken look on her face told him he'd said the wrong thing.

"Oh God, you knew about the character witness and you thought he'd already won. I don't believe this Caleb." She replied, tears clouding her vision as she slammed her palms against the swing door and barrelled right into Greg.

"Whoa!" He pulled back raising his arms in defence and as soon as she realised who it was she grabbed onto him more tightly than she ever had, her vice-like fingers gripping onto whole fistfuls of his shirt and she sobbed against him violently.

"Hey, hey what's happened?" He asked softly, tucking her beneath his chin and looking desperately towards Caleb who stood dumbfounded.

"I... I don't know..." Caleb sounded as confused as he looked as he stared back at his brother.

"I've lost them Greg, Rafi's going to take them away."

"What? He replied, utterly surprised. "It's over so soon?"

"No it isn't over yet. We made some progress, the judge granted the divorce but Sahira just found out about the character witness." He admitted and Sahira pulled back roughly, shock colouring her features.

"Just found out? What is he talking about? Did you know?" Her tone was accusatory.

"Sahira... Calm down Ok? Cay didn't have time to tell you but whilst you with your boys he explained it all to me." He told her, gripping her shoulders tightly and making it so she had to look at him.

"What are you saying? I don't understand." She admitted forlornly.

"You don't think I would leave you hanging out to dry do you?" He asked her, a soft laugh in his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"Whilst I was at the hospital I took the liberty of arranging a character witness for you. Someone whose understanding of you and how you work is second to none. So sit down, take a breath and let me give him a call. You know what we Douglases say right Cay?"

"Right." Caleb murmured, wondering at the lengths his former lathario of a brother was going to for this woman. "Fight fire with fire." He supplied when Sahira shot him a bemused look. Now all that was left was to inform the judge of this addition to the testimonials.

"We'll need you here in twenty." Greg told him, glancing at his watch and calculating the time remaining in the recess and the necessary time for Caleb to brief him.

* * *

><p>"<em>I'll be there in ten."<em> He replied and then the line went dead.

"Can you stay now?" Sahira asked, having rested her head on his shoulder.

* * *

><p>"Course I can, I'll be right there with you." He assured her.<p>

"I just want my babies back." She sighed, "I never thought Rafi could be so... malicious."

"He's upset, he's using the only thing he thinks will get to you."

"But to do this to me? Couldn't we have come to an agreement?" She asked, clearly imploring him to give her the answer she longed for. Her eyes were so sad that he wished he could.

They were silent for several long moments when there didn't appear to be anything else to say and all that was left was to contemplate the future. He hardly even dared to bring up her divorce, knowing it was tactless and was a small victory in comparison to what she really hoped to achieve, he only wished he could make it right for her. He knew the only way he could have done that was not to have fallen for her in the first place which seemed as impossible as this situation.

"I hate this." She murmured.

"I know."

"I want it to be over." She sighed, burying her head in closer to him.

"I know." He soothed although he knew there was really nothing he could do or say to make this any better.

That was when he felt her shoulders begin to shake and once again, her pain was like a knife to his heart.

"Hey, hey we'll figure this out."

"How? Rafi's winning, Caleb was right all along, he does look like the best option." She replied heavily, resigned to the acknowledgement of this fact.

Greg honestly didn't know what to say to that, he knew what she wanted him to say, but he wasn't sure he could make it believable. Fortunately, someone saved him and it was precisely the motivation she needed.

"Now" a voice spoke from the doorway and they all turned towards it. "That sounds like the quitter's view to me. Tell me Miss Shah – When did you become a quitter?" His tone was sharp and her head snapped up to meet his eye.

For a moment she was frozen as she stared up into the stern, cold and unforgiving eyes of Henrik Hanssen. For the briefest time she was too shocked to speak. He was her character witness? What had Greg been thinking? Now he would know all about their relationship and he would likely say something which would seal her fate for good.

She could have chosen to ignore him, that was what she felt like doing but she knew he was posing her a challenge and as always she did not want to fail him.

"I'm not." She told him resolutely.

"That's the spirit. Now I propose we find a way to ensure that your children end up where they belong. Don't you agree?"

She nodded as he sank into the vacant chair next to her, his posture as formal as it ever was.

"So why don't you start at the beginning." He told her as he turned his head almost imperceptibly towards her.

* * *

><p>Back in the courtroom, the air was tenser than it had been when it had just been the four of them facing the judge. There was hardly a crowd now, but there were more witnesses to their dispute and that unsettled her, particularly as one of those observers was not only her boss but also her mentor and once-upon-a-time friend.<p>

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she saw Rafi's eyes flash with malice as Hanssen took a seat off to the left of them with the other spectators, one of which was Greg and the other Mr Jameson, head anaesthetist at the hospital – Rafi's character witness.

"Your Honour" Caleb spoke, addressing the judge before she resumed the session "before the session begins, I would like to submit a character testimonial for Sahira Shah, Mr Henrik Hanssen, Director of Surgery at Holby City General hospital." He finished, pushing the papers towards her for her perusal.

She glanced at them quickly and then nodded her approval "motion condoned. I see we have 'an even playing field' again." She told him and Sahira thought she detected the smallest of smiles in her voice and at the corner of her mouth.

"I also notice we are joined by a spectator. Do I need to re-iterate my expectations for this courtroom?" She asked, sounding as though she wished she didn't have to.

"No your honour. Mr Douglas has been informed of appropriate conduct for this session." Caleb spoke up and again the judge nodded.

"If we are through with administrative detail, I would like to open this session." The judge declared and all parties stiffened, as if preparing themselves for battle once more.

"Now, before I call upon the selected character witnesses, I would like to ask each of you to provide a justification in your own words as to why you believe the other party should not have custody of your children. I will warn you again that slanderous commentary will not be tolerated." Carter threw a look in Rafi's direction.

"Miss Shah, as the claimant why don't you begin?"

Sahira was completely silent. That question had thrown her utterly off course. She could think of a hundred reasons why they _should_ be with her – the most pressing of which happening to be that her children were literally the reason her heart beat – but to come up with a reason why Rafi _shouldn't_ have them? She simply couldn't. He was an excellent father, he loved their children, he only wanted the best for them. Even she could see that from all angles, he looked like the obvious choice. Her pulse began to quicken and panic began to set as she realised that not offering her reasons could be the defining factor in this case.

"Miss Shah?" The judge prompted and she pulled herself from her stupor.

"I..." she paused a moment, finding the words. "I can't." She told her eventually.

"You can't?"

"Yes your honour... I mean, no I can't." She repeated.

"Your honour, a moment with my client?" Caleb begged, noticing how quickly this situation was going downhill.

"Granted Mr Douglas." She replied impatiently.

"Sahira..." He whispered "what are you doing? This is your chance to speak, to tell them why you're the best parent to have custody of your children. You've been waiting for this chance so take it."

"Exactly" Sahira began to reply for the whole courtroom. "This is my time to speak and I'm bound to tell the truth. The truth is..." She paused, turning towards Rafi who had adopted an expression of bemused interest. "I can't think of a single reason why Rafi shouldn't have the children." She admitted, looking back towards the judge.

"I won't lie and the truth is, Rafi is an amazing father and he would raise the boys properly, I couldn't wish for a better influence for the boys." She continued, feeling both Greg and Henrik's eyes boring into her.

"Forgive me Miss Shah but if you are of this opinion, why exactly are you engaging Dr Raza in a custodial battle? Why not allow him sole rights to your children's custody?" Judge Carter was confused by this intensely complicated woman and her equally complex situation.

"I am here because Rafi served me papers, he made this complaint official. I am also here because all my heart is telling me is that I man I once loved is trying to take my children from me and I have to stop him, I have to try. My children need me and I have gone into fight mode. If it's a battle he wants, then that's what he's going to get. I can prove to you beyond the shadow of a doubt that I love my boys and that I will do anything for them. I can also prove to you that my relationship with Greg Douglas will in no way negatively impact upon their well being. I can do that, but I will not deprecate upon Rafi's character to do so. If you award me custody I want to know I received it fairly." She spoke quietly, but her words were powerful.

The judge said nothing for a while as she noticed the fire which was suddenly in the other woman's eyes. Although she was not supposed to become personally connected to cases, she could not help the dual onslaughts of empathy and respect she felt at that moment. She only hoped that now that she had stated her objective so clearly, Sahira Shah could indeed deliver a solid case which would leave the decision clear.

"Thank you for your frankness and honesty Miss Shah, I appreciate how difficult this is for everyone involved and I believe that resolving the issue this way will be in the best interests of both of you and your children." Carter spoke after a while, turning towards Rafi with an expression of interest.

The man clearly loved his wife, or as she was now to be considered, his ex-wife and in honesty she couldn't understand how they had gotten here, but as she looked over the man's shoulder and focused for a moment on the figure of Greg Douglas, the third party in this debate, she could see an equal amount of love radiating from him for this woman. She was surrounded by love and she wasn't even aware of just how much and that only made the decision she had to make harder. It would have been, perhaps should still be, an easy one to call. In this case as in her own, the mother was the adulteress and the father was claiming that her inappropriate relationship was the reason why he did not wish for her to have custody of the children. Miss Shah had hardly been dishonest about her relationship, in fact it was the justification for the divorce. She could not even offer any reason why her ex husband should not be granted custody and in all these regards, the decision should have been easy. Any of her colleagues would have awarded custody to the father by now, this she knew, but there was something about the openness of the woman and the way that her lover looked like he would gladly fall on his sword for her which made her want to see this through. Of course that also meant allowing Dr Raza his chance to speak, which could ultimately mean that her hands were tied. In the end though, she would do what was lawfully right because that was the only thing she could do.

"Dr Raza, before you give us the reasons why Miss Shah should not, in your opinion, have custody of your children I ask you consider what has already passed in this courtroom today. Initially, I know Mr Green had some concerns that the change in petition this case has undergone would facilitate Miss Shah's evasion of the conditions you laid down in your initial complaint. What has been shown however, is that Mr Douglas has recognised the original terms and has rather astutely incorporated them into the new claim. As such, the court and indeed you Dr Raza, have heard that Miss Shah has made answer to your grievances and contrary to assertion that she is 'challenged', she appears to be coping well with her responsibilities as both surgeon and mother. She has also disclosed the identity of her lover and indeed he is sitting not ten feet away from you at the present moment. The question I put to you now is, in your own opinion – not that of your counsel – do the original terms of your claim still stand?" She asked, allowing him time for contemplation.

Rafi flashed a quick look at Harry Green who it appeared, even the judge did not value and right at that moment, his counsel looked more lost than he was. Honestly, he didn't know what he was paying him for. Greg's lawyer brother was doing a far better job and he could respect that.

When he thought about it, he hadn't expected Sahira to be quite so honest. He had expected her to brush her relationship with Greg under the carpet but instead, she had been upfront and she had answered all of his grievances. The only matter which now stood between him and the custody of his boys was indeed whether or not her new relationship was inappropriate which, given that it was Greg Douglas, he was sure it was. He was still so incessantly blinded by the images his minded produced every time he thought about it that he couldn't justify it by any other means than as inappropriate.

"Yes I believe they do." He told her, simply because that was what he believed.

"So it makes no difference that you know Greg Douglas - that he is a colleague?"

"No your Honour it does not. In fact I am more convinced that Sahira's involvement with him would impact upon my children in a negative manner given that her lover is Greg Douglas." Rafi told her, his voice cool and controlled. Sahira made to protest but Caleb stopped her with a sharp glance and she quieted, hearing Rafi out.

"Please explain what you mean by that Dr Raza."

"In the short months that I have known Greg Douglas, I have become aware of his involvement with at least five women, most of them nurses or other members of staff from the hospital. During his brief courtships of these women, he made no attempt to disguise his engagements with them from any of the staff on the ward, including Sahira, which I believe she will attest to. Working with Greg taught me that he is not the kind of man who is in a relationship for the long-haul but rather he is in it for as much as he can get and then he proceeds to find a better model. My concern is that in all this, he shows himself to be sexually free and indiscriminate in terms of the partners he chooses to take. Despite having signed that certificate this morning, I do love my wife..." He paused, an instant reaction to Hanssen's cough "ex-wife" he corrected "and I do not want to see her become another victim of this man's carelessness. I believe this will be the result if she continues to entertain the idea that this thing they have between them has a future. I'm sorry your Honour but I just don't think that kind of uncertainty is suitable for my children to be around".

"Very well Dr Raza, you raise a valid point about the stability of Miss Shah's current living situation, one which I cannot ignore. However, what you have failed to do thus far, is to provide any evidence of the inappropriate relations between Miss Shah and Mr Douglas, the reason, as you put it for your grievance with this relationship in the first place. Can you in fact provide evidence of these 'inappropriate relations' at all?" She asked sceptically, knowing that it would be a case of word against word here.

"Your honour, I believe I just described in detail the previous behaviour of this man and indeed I have given a description of his personality as I see it..." Rafi was floundering and it showed.

"I am not interested in Mr Douglas' colourful past, he is not on trial. Neither might I remind you is Miss Shah. If there is no veritable proof then I must dismiss this matter from the case." She told him sternly.

Rafi seemed outraged at this logic and rose a little out of his seat, twisting himself around to face Greg. "I know what you have been doing to my wife." He told him, recognising within himself the desperation of a man who was slowly losing control.

"You" Greg replied quietly, "know nothing about the way things are between us." He finished, adding nothing further.

"Look at her, just look at her. Do you really expect them to have been living together for three weeks and not to have been... licentious?"

"Licentious? Interesting choice of word. But essentially, what you're saying is that you have no proof of an indiscretion? You only have your assumptions, which I might add, would have been perfectly valid given the circumstances. But there is such a thing as _pushing it too far_ Dr Raza. Miss Shah, perhaps you could shed some light on this. Is there need to scrutinise your relationship with Mr Douglas, or can you assure me with confidence that your conduct has been 'behind closed doors'?" She asked, tired of this sparring.

Sahira paused, drawing in a deep breath and hating the fact that she had to talk about this, not only in front of Rafi but also in front of Hanssen.

"Look, I know you don't have any reason to believe this, why would you when this relationship is extra-marital? But we really have just been living together for the past three weeks. Caleb... Mr Douglas... has been staying with us and can attest to the fact that for the entire duration of the time I have been there, I have been living out of the guestroom. Greg and I love each other, that's true and we want to be fully physically intimate but neither of us felt that it was appropriate to do so until this case was resolved. But even when we can enjoy a full relationship, I would never bring it into the realm of our children's understanding. Rafi..." She paused, making sure he was looking at her "you might have a reason to be wary of Greg's intentions, I would expect you to, but you know _me_ and you know the type of person_ I_ am. You know that I've never been comfortable talking about this stuff, you know that that what happened between us always stayed between us. Why should my relationship with Greg be any different?" She asked, waiting for someone to react to what she had said.

"Come on Rafi. This is me. Of all the things you might think of me now, you can't think that I would ever let my relationship with Greg affect my relationship with our children and my responsibilities as a mother..." She sounded pained and from where he sat on the edge of the room, Greg wished that he could comfort her.

"I... I'm sorry." Rafi murmured after a while and Sahira realised as she followed his field of vision that he was not apologising to her but rather for wasting the judge's time.

* * *

><p>"It seems that I can no longer use Dr Raza's claims as a deciding factor in this case. I cannot however dismiss his assertions that the environment that your relationship with Mr Douglas will take place in is of questionable certainty. What can you do to allay my doubts?" It was another test, one the judge hoped she would pass because as things stood things were of indeterminate favour.<p>

"I can't say that I didn't have my doubts about Greg" she began and again Caleb sucked in a breath which told her again she had said the wrong thing. "But the more I got to know him, the less his past mattered to me. He told me he loves me and I believe him. If he was going to go anywhere, I imagine that a custody case and the prospect of having my two small sons in his life would be enough of an event to cause him to run. But he hasn't run so far, in fact he's sitting right there listening as everything is being dragged out for all to see and I haven't seen him flinch. I don't think I can say more than that. If you're asking me to predict the future, then you're asking me to do the impossible but I can say that he's opened his heart and his home to me, he's willing to love me and everything that comes with that including my sons because he understands that without them I'm just a part of me. He's here and he loves me and he's willing to love my children and that's all I can ask for right now."

"That's as may be but I cannot make a decision based on a possibility, you understand that?"

"Look..." Greg spoke up and they all turned towards him "I know I haven't got the best track record and I'm not proud of that but I do love Sahira. If you want proof that I can give her stability that I can provide enough love for her and the boys, I'll give that to you. I want to marry you Sahira." He told her "I'm not saying right now, I don't expect you to accept today. I'm just saying I see a future for us and I wanted to show you that." He told her, his words more genuine than they had ever been.

"Mr Douglas, are you saying that given everything Miss Shah just said and given the lack of physical intimacy you purport, you wish to marry Miss Shah, with no firm knowledge that your life would be full or entirely happy?"

"I just told you, I don't mean to marry her immediately, I wouldn't rush her like that, but yes, if she would have me I'd marry her in a heartbeat because the only thing that matters to me, is making her happy. You know what? Even if she decided to tear up that certificate right now and walk out of her with Rafi and the boys, it would be hard as hell, but I'd let her go because if that was what it took to make her happy, I'd do it." He told them all, the emotion clear in his voice.

The judge did a double take of this strong, resolute man and her judgement of him as something of a womaniser began to ebb. Clearly, whatever he had been in the past, he was now a man in love.

Sahira wasn't quite sure how to respond, she was sure that her jaw had hit the table. It had been one Hell of a day and it had just gotten a whole lot more complicated. She was about to reply with something wholly incoherent when the judge interrupted her.

"Huh." Judge Carter murmured and the whole courtroom was decidedly shocked by the noise, it was non-committal and so casual.

"It seems we have reached a stale-mate. I think the best way to proceed is to hear the character witness statements, after which point I will have heard all possible evidence on both sides and I will proceed to make a decision based on the full testimonies as they have been presented. I think that we will proceed by hearing Mr Jameson's testimony." The judge indicated to the other man to take a seat at the main table.

* * *

><p>The older man took it, adjusting his jacket self-consciously as a silent heaviness filled the room.<p>

"Mr Jameson what is your role at Holby City General hospital?"

"I am head anaesthetist, Dr Raza is on my firm."

"How long has Dr Raza worked with you?"

"Fifteen weeks. But I am also head of NUA so I have known Rafi for seventeen years since the day he qualified."

"So you also know his wife?"

"Sahira is a friend of my wife Evlin but I can't say that I know her that well."

"Fortunately therefore we are not here to pass comment on their marriage, which you will know was dissolved earlier today. What I need from your is a justification as to whether you believe Dr Raza is the best parent for custody to granted to."

"As I have said, I have known Rafi for ten years and in that time he married Sahira Shah and they had two sons. I am a father myself but my own elation at the birth of my children is ashamedly inadequate by comparison to the sheer joy I noticed in him. At first I thought it was the father-son fantasy playing out, but the more I got to know him, the more I realised he dotes on those boys more than I could ever imagine. As they grew older I saw Rafi making sacrifices, relinquishing work, denying himself opportunities all for the sake of his children. As far as I am aware these sacrifices were all the benefit of Sahira, I am sorry to say I have never seen any evidence of similar sacrifice on her part. It is my opinion that she is too career driven to be an adequate care giver for such small children. Dr Raza on the other hand has already made steps to tender his resignation; I do believe general practice beckons him to Cornwall where the boys will be raised by the sea..." He told them and stopped himself short at that final information.

This information however, was too much for Sahira and she let out a noise indescribable by any other terms than as a yelp. She stirred from her seat but Caleb's firm hand to her shoulder kept her in her place.

"Mr Douglas, you will advise your client to control herself in this courtroom." Judge Carter warned, but her voice betrayed her sympathy.

"Mr Jameson on whose authority do you have this information?"

"Rafi's of course. I really do think that this is the best possible destination for the children - away from this, from all this confusion – with their father." He replied firmly and it seemed that was all he had to say on the subject.

Sahira looked stricken, this news seemingly the final straw for her. "Please...Rafi please don't do this, don't take them so far away." She pleaded.

"Miss Shah, I must ask you to desist. Beggary in any of its forms has no place in this courtroom." Judge Carter warned.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek.

* * *

><p>Rosemary Carter's unfalteringly stony gaze wavered as her own inner anger bubbled. This man really was a piece of work. She just wished there was something she could do. "Mr Hanssen, perhaps you have a different opinion?" She signalled to the main table and Henrik stood from his spectator's spot, his presence every bit as commanding as it was at the hospital.<p>

"Mr Hanssen, how long have you known Miss Shah?"

"I mentored Miss Shah throughout her initial medical training and had maintained contact with to the point of placing her in her first position, at, I believe, the hospital where she met Dr Raza – I was at their wedding. After that point I was only aware of her progress in the cardiac field, through colleagues and such, until she came to work at Holby City General hospital and we became direct colleagues again. Our acquaintance stems back fourteen years."

"So you can say with some confidence that you are authority on Miss Shah as a mother?"

"Yes, I believe I am. However, your honour, I think you will find that my testimony will be quite different from that of Mr Jameson."

"How so?"

"Well you see, I do not intend to provide a glittering account of Miss Shah in the way that my colleague did for Dr Raza. That is not to say that her professionalism or conduct should be called into question in any respect, it is only that I do not feel the need to offer evidence of her merits, since she can prove those independently. I will say this, in the years that I have known her, I have come to realise that I could offer her the stars" he paused and seemed to check himself "as far as her career is concerned and yet, she would never take them if it meant her children couldn't also accompany her, if there was no benefit to them. Now, I could go up against Mr Jameson and try to disprove his testimony but I feel there would be little point. I can say without any hesitation that Sahira is the person to whom sole custody should be awarded. In my view her relationship with Mr Douglas has no sway on her professionalism or ability to care for her children. I can base this decision on something she once said to me – she told me that _children are the biggest stakes a woman can have_ and in everything she does, I have never seen her be anything but true to that. I admit that in the past I have not been considerate of this but even going up against me, her commitment to her children has never once wavered. That is why, although it is the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my professional life, I agreed with Mr Douglas that he should assume responsibility for CTU and I realised that on some level, _I had to let her go. _But..." He was about to continue but his pager interrupted him and he glanced down at it briefly "I think if you do not award custody to Miss Shah at the end of this case, you will leave the hospital and indeed me" he paused, a brief flicker of emotion twitching at the corner of his eye "with one broken heart it cannot fix." He told them all, getting up and tucking his pager back into his suit-jacket before glancing quickly towards Sahira who smiled weakly.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I must get back to work." He told them and without further adieu he was gone.

The judge was silent for a while, they all were in the wake of Henrik Hanssen's moving testimony. It was true the man didn't say much and had little emotional range, but when he spoke, he made an impact and that was certainly true.

"Well it seems that we have come to the conclusion of all the evidence in this matter. It must now inevitably fall to me to weigh up everything that's been heard and to decide with whom custody of the Sunil and Indiana should lie. Do either party have anything to add?" She asked, pausing for a moment and both Sahira and Rafi shook their heads. "Good, so I must now ask you to leave as deliberations begin. Counsel please remain seated." She replied as she motioned for Sahira, Rafi, Mr. Jameson and Greg to leave.

* * *

><p>"I hate this." She murmured again, probably for the hundredth time that day as paced up and down the small holding area.<p>

"You're almost there Sahira. It's nearly over."

"I know, that's what I'm worried about."

"I can't tell you it's going to be Ok but what I can tell you is that you did everything you could do, you were brilliant and honest and that's all you could be." He told her, crossing to where she had stopped pacing and sliding his hands down to her wrists.

"How long is this going to take?" She asked, throwing glances at both the courtroom door and to where she knew the boys had been.

"As long as it needs to for the judge to see that_ you_ are the right person." He told her knowing that he shouldn't raise her hopes.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything, all of this... Just... thank you."

"Sahira it's..." He started to reply but then the door opened and Caleb came out looking flustered.

"Already?" She murmured, her hand flying to her mouth as already tears began to form in her eyes.

Caleb said nothing for a moment and Greg stepped forward, placing a hand on Sahira's shoulder for support.

"Well?" He asked desperately.

"You have to go back in Sahira." He told her.

* * *

><p>Sahira and Rafi had taken their former places at the table and they sat opposite the judge who looked tired and worn, which Sahira could definitely relate to.<p>

"As you'll appreciate, this case is not an easy one to call, it has many complex avenues and I feel, an equally complex solution." She paused and they nodded.

"As such it is my decision that I cannot come to an informed conclusion before the close of play today. With this in mind, I would like us to reconvene in two days time." She told them and Sahira could only release the slow breath she had been holding...

* * *

><p><strong>Ok so there it is. Are you still awake? I commend you if you are! I'm sorry that this took longer than I had planned it to and that it turned into a bit of monster chapter!<strong>

**I would apologise for the cliff hanger, but I wouldn't mean it... :P **

**I hope that this was researched thoroughly enough, please do forgive any deviations from legal practice, remember this is fiction after all and we are working to a very specific goal – HEA so certain things had to happen the way they did. **

**Please forgive any minor editorial mishaps, it's a big chapter and I tried really hard but I'm only human. **

**Please feel free to let me know what you think, reviews are motivational and indeed will make me type faster... **

**Thanks for reading, **

**Love always, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	10. Pretty

**Hello lovely people, **

**Thank you for the reviews, tweets and interest on this one, as always it is humbling and means so much to me. I'm so glad that you enjoyed the last chapter and indeed I'm glad that you didn't fall asleep - :P I know it was heavy on the legal stuff. That was the last time it will be so technical, I promise.**

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City, its characters and plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. The title of this chapter is inspired by a current musical obsession of mine, the song 'Pretty' by Nicole Scherzinger I think it definitely describes what I was trying to say in the previous chapter 'Everything I do' particularly Rafi's attitude towards Sahira. Continuing with the soundtrack theme of the chapter titles, you might want to have a listen to establish the mood. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"Two days?" She asked, her voice barely disguising the tears which were threatening to fall. "I have to wait two more days?" She asked again.<p>

They were out of the courtroom now and the judge had left through the back room and had gone into chambers. Sahira didn't blame the woman, she wouldn't have wanted to come out here and face up to her either if the positions had been reversed. This empathy did nothing however for the rising emptiness she now felt. She had to wait another two days to find out whether she had been awarded custody or not. It was a relatively short space of time but she knew for a desperate mother, those two days would provide endless opportunities for her to rake over what had happened, going over and over everything that had been said, analysing the judge's reaction and wondering if she could have done something differently. There would be periods where she would feel like she had no hope - that there was no possible way the judge would choose her, there would be others when she felt optimistic – when she would recall the judge's sympathetic eyes or small empathetic smile and she would hope that maybe those small details would mean that she was sure to get custody. It was going to be an emotional rollercoaster and frankly she wasn't sure she could handle it.

As soon as they had stepped out of the court room, Greg's hand had been in hers, holding her up, keeping her together and yet even the gravity he offered her was not enough – she wanted more, she wanted to feel the familiar soft stickiness of Indy's fingers as they gripped hers, desperate to be close to her, she wanted to feel Sunni's body cocooned around her as she woke tomorrow morning as she often did after having a rough day, but she knew that she had to face the fact that she might never have those things again.

"Sahira, listen to me. The two day decision period is a good thing." Caleb tried to assure her, but he knew he probably couldn't.

"Exactly _how_ is this a good thing?" She asked, her voice wild with emotion.

"I know it might not seem like it is but the two day recess means that the judge hasn't sided with Rafi." He told her as confidently as he could.

"But she didn't side with me either." She told him realistically.

"Perhaps not immediately but the fact that she didn't decide in Rafi's favour shows that you presented a viable case, something she has to think about. It means that you're still in this fight."

"Yeah? Well why doesn't it feel that way?" She asked, beginning to walk away.

"Sahira wait..." Caleb called after her as Greg stood halfway between them both looking slightly dumbfounded.

She span back towards him quickly. "What?" She asked holding her hands up expectantly.

"They're still in there you know." He tipped his head towards the door off to the right of where they were standing.

"Thank you." She murmured gratefully, wiping away the tear stains which had dried onto her cheeks and fixing her smile in place before she pushed open the door.

* * *

><p>The boys rushed at her the moment they saw her , abandoning whatever they had been doing in favour of grabbing onto the person they had much so much over the past three weeks.<p>

"Mummy! You're here. Daddy said we're all going home now, can we have ice cream on the way?" Sunni asked, excited by the prospect that they could all go home together. His Mummy didn't have to go back to the bad place.

Sahira felt the pain of his words catch her right in the heart, their sharp enthusiasm slicing through that already weakened muscle as she looked up and met eyes with someone she hadn't noticed before – Rafi.

She pulled both her sons closer to her, making sure that her hands covered their ears as she stared at him. "What did you say to them?" She asked, her words waspish.

"_I_ told them the truth – That it was time to go home. Little did I know that _you_ had told them you'd be coming back with them... with_ us_. Looks like you just made another promise you couldn't keep Sahi." Rafi told her, his tone bitter.

"Don't call me that. Not anymore. You lost that privilege..." He cut her off.

"When? This morning? Is that what you were going to say?"

"No Rafi, not this morning. You lost the right to call me that when you stopped treating me like your wife and like the woman you love. This morning just made it official." She told him coldly.

"Right well you've made your position clear, come on boys – it's time to go home. Mummy won't be coming." The boys looked stricken at this last addition and he continued, hardly considering how to approach this subject delicately or indeed with any sense of audience awareness. "Mummy and Daddy aren't going to be married anymore. Mummy won't be living with you anymore." He spoke softly but his words were maliciously intended for Sahira.

The boys made noises of protest, of that she was sure. But she was too shocked to react on any level, the world just seemed to be spiralling out of her control. As she tried to comfort her sons, she stared right at him and where previously she had seen love, desperation even, now all she saw was hatred.

"Outside." She hissed at him, waiting for Gwen to come over to the boys before she began to leave the room.

* * *

><p>Once they were safely out of earshot, she turned on him with a speed that surprised even her. She could have cried, she could have screamed and shouted and bawled at him, but she didn't want her composure to slip now. Apart from the minor slips, she had maintained the facade of control today and she wanted that image to remain with him after they left this place.<p>

"Why would you do that?" She asked.

"What do you mean? All I've done is tell my boys the truth, one hundred percent of it. You're the one who wasn't honest with them."

"But you've told them that I won't be living with them anymore. You can't know that."

"I think I can." He argued, making a quick analysis of the facts and of course deciding in his own favour.

"Neither of us know what the judge will decide, so_ you_ can't make those sorts of promises to them."

"Sahira, do you really think your case is viable? Do you really think that living with _that _man will be the best thing for our children?" He asked disdainfully as he glanced down the corridor towards the holding area where Greg stood with clenched fists.

"Look Rafi, I can appreciate what you tried to do here today. I understand that making me look bad might have been the best thing for your case, but you see, I didn't need to show that type of desperation. My desperation was to have my children, not to hurt you. I know that might not seem like it could ever be true, I know I _have_ hurt you with this and I truly am sorry for that but I just didn't see the point in being anything but honest. I have nothing to hide and I refuse to be as weak as you have made me out to be."

"I _know_ you Sahira, I know what truly matters to you. The most important things in your life, they aren't your sons or your _lover_ , they're your things – that dress- Donna Karen I'd wager -and your Vuitton tote and your shiny Lexus. They're the things which make you happy." He told her cruelly.

"You know, for a man who was only begging me for a second chance at our marriage this morning, you're doing a pretty convincing job of showing me your true colours." She told him, continuing after a pause.

"The funny thing is though, a few years ago you'd probably have been right. It was certainly true when we met. For a girl like me who had to work her backside off just to keep on top of tuition and you know,_ living_, the prospect of a fancy dinner with an attractive, funny, kind and sweet senior was exciting. I used to live for the days when my phone would ring and we'd arrange to meet for some romantic escapade because yes, you'd bring me the mostexpensive gift your father's money could buy and I liked that attention. But then you asked me to marry you and our love became real, it wasn't just the stuff of fairytales. It was real and it meant something. So maybe you thought I married you because of the bespoke single carat _Tiffany _diamond you pulled out that night but, hard as it might be for you to believe, I married you because you made me happy. You. Just the man. I loved _you_ not the ring – even though it was...is beautiful. I changed the night you changed our relationship. You gave me something real, love like I had never known and I only ever wanted to make you happy. Then Sunni was born and I never thought I could love our life together anymore than at that moment. Until Indy was born and suddenly I didn't need anything else because we were complete. So yes, maybe I do like to wear a good dress and carry a nice bag but those things aren't really important to me. You could strip me naked, right here where I stand and I'd still be here fighting for my sons because _they_ are the most important things in my life barring nothing. I'm just not the love-struck materialistic girl you still think I am and maybe that's the problem." She told him, her voice full of passion.

"If you really believed that you wouldn't be here trying to prove yourself." He told her.

"I have nothing to prove. My love for the boys is self evident and I think if I've proven anything here today it's that I won't be silent anymore. I'm not just going to stand idly by and let you bad mouth me or Greg or our relationship. I won't just go along with whatever you want anymore. I have no obligation to you anymore and I refuse to be your dead, unfeeling decoration any longer. I think what I showed everyone in there including _you_, is that I am worth something." She told him firmly, her posture exuding assertion.

"Do you really think that's how _he_ sees you? Do you really think you're worth something to him, something real? Sure you might be worth something to him now that you're something new, you're like a new toy for him and he'll enjoy you for a while then he'll tire of you and you'll have nowhere to go." He told her with nothing but cruelty in his voice, it was the only thing he found himself capable of feeling towards her.

"If that's what you think then you know nothing about him, nothing at all." She replied, equally coldly.

"It won't last Sahira. Do you think he meant all that stuff about letting you go if he had to? About marrying you? He has no idea how to handle you... None at all." He told her.

"Handle me? You make me sound like an animal, a caged animal at that. How dare you? You know, Greg told me everything you said to him about me, about him, about the reasons why our relationship couldn't work and you know what? He didn't care about any of it. He loves me in spite of all those things you tried so desperately to make him believe. He loves me for the person I am. To him, I'm not an object, despite what you might think about his intentions. Everything we said in there was true. Greg listens to me, he understands me and he cares about what I think and how I feel and he loves for being a thinking feeling person. Maybe I don't know what's around the corner for us but honestly, when I married you, I couldn't have predicted_ this_. So if there's one thing I've learned from all this, it's that I don't need to know everything." She told him.

"You'll get hurt." He assured her and just when she thought she simply could not take another second of his hateful tirade, she felt a familiar warmth behind her, a comforting strength and when she reached her hand backwards she was not entirely unsurprised to find that she could lace her fingers through his.

"Listen to me Rafi, Sahira may not be sure of what's in the future for us and honestly, if I tell her that in I will never do anything to hurt her then yeah I'd be the one who's lying because she's right. We can't know what the future is going to bring, just the same way as you have absolutely no idea which way the judge is going to decide two days from now. You want the truth? You want to talk about honesty – well here's some for you - Sahira here is going to be just fine because guess what? Her lawyer helped her give you a run for your money. So... unless you plan to cause even more of a scene..." he paused, stepping in front of her protectively "then I suggest you start running." Greg told the other man gruffly and for several long seconds there was only stunned and respectful silence.

"Yes well... I guess we'll see on Friday won't we?" Rafi asked somewhat sarcastically.

"We will." Sahira managed before she felt Greg begin to guide her away.

"Come on" he murmured soothingly, "Let's go home."

* * *

><p>The car journey home had been awkward, not that he hadn't expected it to. He just hadn't banked on such a short trip feeling so long. The silence of course had been worsened, intensified even, by the fact that Caleb had been following them home separately. He supposed in hindsight that some of the silence was his own fault – he could have attempted to have spoken to her but the truth was he couldn't think of anything to say to her that hadn't already been said. So instead he had sat there, the silence weighing heavily upon him as he had realised that this was a glimpse of how their relationship would be if that judge didn't deliver the correct decision on Friday and Lord knew he hoped she did.<p>

Now, an hour after their return, Greg felt even more helpless than he had when he had witnessed her being sabotaged, attacked and beaten down by Rafi and his arsehole character witness. He sat at his breakfast island, an attitude of quiet contemplation having befallen his face as he clutched a beer which had not even been sipped at. Opposite him sat the man of the hour. The one person to whom even Greg himself was now pinning his last hopes for his relationship with Sahira, a relationship which it seemed, would not get off the ground if things went badly. Caleb. His younger brother was equally as quiet and motionless as he currently was and this only exacerbated the noise they could hear.

Overhead they could hear her moving around, things were banging and scraping and he could hear her heavy sobs but he did not feel like it was a good idea to go up there, his presence might only serve to aggravate her further and that was the last thing he wanted. Despondency was not ideal but it was favourable to arguing and causing her to say something which she would later regret or which he would...

"Should I cook something?" Caleb offered after a moment, feeling like he needed to be doing something, anything to drown out the noise of Sahira's sorrow.

"Maybe that's a good idea little one." Greg murmured distractedly.

Caleb slid off the bar stool he had been sitting on and rifled through the cupboards before checking the freezer. "On second thought, maybe a pizza would be a good idea." He laughed grabbing the menu after realising that the cupboards were bare – they had all had other concerns this week.

"Yeah, yeah whatever you want." Greg agreed and again Caleb noticed that his brother was distracted.

"How can I help Greg?" He asked quietly, abandoning the menu.

"You already have been Cay; I was just going to ask you the same question. How can I help her? What can I do?"

"Honestly? I don't know Greg. I could be callous and tell you that the best way to help her would have been not to fall for her in the first place. But don't worry; you know I'm a firm believer that you can't help who you fall for so there'll be no lectures from me. These next two days are probably going to be harder on her and therefore on you than anything this case has thrown your way so far. The good news is, although this is going to be a test for you, if you can survive this, you know your relationship has a fighting chance of working in the long run."

"Well its hard lines that we have to go through this kind of test so early on in our relationship. We haven't had any time to just be. All I know is that I love her and I can't bear the thought that this could cause me to lose her."

"Greg, you have to put your faith in me. I know that might be hard but we haven't lost this thing yet, it's not over. I meant what I told Sahira earlier – that the judge declared a decision-period is a good thing, it means she's thinking and if she's thinking then in that way, we're winning Ok?" He tried to comfort him, knowing however that his legal understanding was beyond the comprehension of the two heart surgeons, but hoping that they could at least trust what he was telling them.

"So in the mean time I should..." He paused, waiting for another pearl of wisdom.

"I haven't got the answer to that question Greg, but I would say since you can't give her what she wants right now; maybe you have to give her what she needs." He told him.

"But what's that?"

"I don't know the answer to that one either but I'm guessing supporting her would be a good thing. Just talk to her, hold her, whatever she needs, just give it to her. Just make sure that she doesn't go anywhere before you have the chance to explore the best thing that's ever happened to you. I can see how much she means to you, so just don't lose her. Now, I'm going to go out and get this pizza, use the time I'm gone to make sure she's not doing something stupid." He told him, slinging his jacket over his shoulder and grabbing his keys and wallet. "Good luck." He finished before he was gone.

* * *

><p>As he stood opposite her door trying to decide how best to proceed, he noticed that things had gone threateningly quiet, in the ringing silence he could only hear her sobs and that made him feel even worse. Still he knew what Caleb had said was true, he had to give her what she needed and to do that he had to work out what that was. He raised a hand and knocked lightly, hearing her draw in a sharp shocked breath at the interruption. He waited several moments but she didn't respond and he knocked again, his hand resting on the door knob.<p>

"Sahira? Sahira? I'm coming in." He told her opening the door despite her protests.

Never. Never had he seen a sight more desperate than this or something as sad as he did in that moment. Of course he had known she had taken this roughly and he also knew that was the understatement of the century, but her confidence during her confrontation had lured him into a false sense of hope, he had not expected to see... this.

From where he stood, a little awkwardly just inside the door, he could see just how wrong he had been to assume that her conviction had been genuine, but he saw now that it was a mask. She sat in the middle of the room, her clothes piled around her in disarrayed heaps but the mess was the least of his worries. What concerned him most was the fact that she had gotten herself into such a state that she currently sat before him only half clothed. Her dress seemed to be hanging limply from her body, almost as if it had been torn. He crossed the room quickly and knelt before her, his urge to protect as strong as it ever had been. As he crouched in front of her, he saw the evidence of the truth of this situation lying just off to her right. Scraps of the black material littered the immediate space but just visible were the glittering open blades of a pair of scissors. She had been taking the scissors to herself. The question was, why?

She looked at him like she was seeing him for the first time and a fresh bout of silent tears spilled from her eyes as she saw his worry.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, her voice barely recognisable, "I'm not mad, I promise." She murmured burying her head in the crook of his neck.

"Hey, I know that. I know. But this...this is _something."_ He commented, slightly at a loss for what else to say.

"I just wanted to prove it to myself." She told him after a while.

"Prove what?"

"That I'm not the person he said I was."

"Oh and tearing up your dress was the way?" His voice with filled with mirth.

"I don't know what I thought. I just kept wondering what if he was right? What if my things are more important to me than.. Anything else? I thought that if I didn't have my things maybe I'd have my priorities straight."

"Sahira, how many times do I have to tell you that it doesn't matter what you wear or what job you do, anyone can see that you're their mother first and foremost?" He asked, his hand snaking around her waist and pulling her closer.

"God..." She sighed "what must I look like to you? I'll bet you're sat there thinking I'm the craziest woman you know..." She murmured, her embarrassment clear.

"I don't think that at all. What I do think is that we have to get you out of that dress and I really have to hide those scissors away." He laughed a little and she offered him a small but appreciative smile.

"See" she replied, sniffing back her tears "I told you you'd think I was crazy."

"Never could." He told her earnestly and for several long moments they cuddled in silence.

"I wish there was something I could do for you, I really wish there was." He told her after their silence and after a while she made sure to angle her head so that she could see him.

"Maybe there is." She replied, reaching up and pressing a tentative kiss to his mouth. When she felt him respond, she pushed her lips against his with more insistence.

In the urgent desperation of their kiss, she somehow managed to scramble to her knees and was grateful when she felt his arms encircling her, welcoming her into his increasingly familiar embrace. They were silent as they kissed, the only sound that of their rapidly sporadic breathing as the intensity built. Soon, she was tugging at his shirt, pulling impatiently at the buttons and allowing her lips to trace the latest exposure of his skin as inch by painful inch, the shirt slackened and his impressive upper body was at her mercy.

He felt guilty immediately, especially as he felt his own hands reach for the zip on the back of her ruined dress and begin to slide it down of their own volition. Although he had admitted to Caleb that right now, he couldn't be sure of what she needed, he knew in his heart of hearts that this certainly wasn't it. Sure, she might have wanted it, wanted him in that moment when what she craved was some human contact but he knew deep down that it was the last thing she needed. When it was over she would regret it, she would probably blame him and he certainly didn't want that. As much as he wanted her – and the extent to which this was true increased with each passing second – he knew he had to put her needs above his own, as he always would. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but surrender to the passion of this moment, if only for a few more blissful seconds. Her soft lips were moist against his skin as she skimmed his collarbone and attempted to move lower in the awkwardly limited space between them. His own body was not without reaction, it never could be when he was around her and sound he found that his deft fingers had stripped her out of her dress and the tattered garment lay discarded as he began to trace his way across her body, teasing at the lacy edges of her bra somewhat blindly as he thought about the impending breakage of this moment.

After drawing out that last second for as long as he could, he lowered her to the ground, pressing her back against the soft carpet and blazing a trail of tiny but burning kisses down the length of her body. He travelled over her clothed breasts and lower still until his mouth brushed against the smooth but slightly soft plane of her stomach, an area which he imagined, was in need of some tender love care in the form of male attentions. Although he kept his eyes firmly closed, not wishing to spoil the surprise of the moment when she was finally his, every other one of his senses told him that she was more beautiful than all the women in the world and that soon, she would be his. But for right now, he had to be chivalrous, he had to think of her...

She started abruptly from her dreamlike state as she felt him stop abruptly and her eyes flew open. She daren't look at him for fear of seeing something in his eyes she did not wish to see but she could sense that he wasn't going to do this for her and she couldn't help but die a little more inside to think of the damage this case had done, for all of them.

"You know Mr Douglas – that is the second time in the last few weeks that you have undressed me." She commented, the suggestion in her voice the only thing which was currently disguising her pain.

"It is." He murmured gruffly and to her it seemed like he was struggling most painfully to keep his desires in check.

"Please..." She half begged, "Don't let this be the second time you leave me wanting..." She continued after a moment, not failing to hear his frustrated groan.

"Sahira we can't do this. I want to give you the things that you need, I want to be what you need, you just have to tell me how."

"Do you really want to know how to be what I need?" She asked.

"Of course I do." He murmured still resting above her.

"Then please do this for me... Please Greg."

"I know you want this, I want it too... I really do and you know that. But you're confused and try as I might, I can't give you the one thing I know you want most in the world and that kills me, now I hate to be presumptuous, but I don't think that a quick encounter up here with me is going to make you feel any better. What I want is to hear that positive verdict on Friday and then to spend the rest of my life finding ways to celebrate that with you. I love you Sahira and I think that qualifies me to say that this isn't what you need."

"You're right." She sighed after a few moments, reaching up and pressing another kiss to his lips. "Of course you are." She admitted reluctantly as he laid beside her.

"I wish you could tell me that it's going to be fine, you always know exactly what to say to make me feel better, even when I'm thinking that the worst is about to happen. Have you ever noticed that annoyingly brilliant habit of yours?" She asked, entwining her legs around his body.

"I guess I just believe in you more than I know you ever will, however many times I tell you you're brilliant, beautiful and talented. I really wish I could tell you that things will be Ok on Friday, I wish that more than I have ever wished anything in my life but I can't tell you something that I can't know for sure. I'll tell you what I do know though, Caleb told me if we hope to win this thing we have to have faith in him and that's one thing I've always had, so if you can't look to me on this one, just trust him."

"I trust you both." She told him, kissing his chest out of gratitude and love and wishing that they could finally be together.

"I'm glad." He told her.

"Greg?"

"Mmm?" He mumbled, clearly comfortable entangled with her. In truth, he was contemplating what it would be like to wake up with her cocooned around him, her sexy curves fitting his body like a glove.

"Promise me one thing?"

"Anything."

"Whatever happens over the next forty eight hours, whatever I might say or do, just promise me you won't let me go." She half begged.

"Sahira, I wouldn't even know how to contemplate letting you go."

"Thank you." She smiled weakly at him.

"For what?"

"For reminding me that I'm more than just 'a pretty face'."

"Well... Miss Shah that's as may be but you do have an exceptionally pretty face." He told her and they both laughed, it was the first heartfelt laugh he's heard escape her in days.

"Hmm and you are just about the cheesiest man on the planet."

"Aw come on, It's why you love me."

"Among other reasons." She agreed, running a single finger down his muscular torso as he sat up rather reluctantly and, unfortunately for her, began to button his shirt.

It was as he was about to ask her exactly what those reasons were that he heard the front door open and closed, followed swiftly by Caleb's hearty announcement of arrival. Greg knew there were two reasons for this zealous reaction, either he was trying to make sure that Greg was still alive or his young live-wire of a brother wanted to save them the embarrassment of being caught in a compromising position. If only he had any idea just how desperate they both were to be in such a position, but alas, once again real life was providing a very realistic block to their happiness and he knew as was the frighteningly inescapable truth, it would begin to be removed by a positive outcome on Friday.

"Hey, come on, put some clothes on, Cay's bought dinner." He told her, his eyes dark with lust as he watched her rifle around in the piles for something to put on.

"You're asking me to put clothes on?" She asked, quirking her eyebrow mischievously.

"This..." He started, pausing for effect, "is a onetime thing." He assured her and as they made their way downstairs, he couldn't fail to notice that a little slice of peace had settled over her, at least for tonight...

* * *

><p><strong>So there it is. Told you it would be unsatisfactory cliff hanger wise – that's the way I designed it. I will not apologise for it, although I will say sorry for this taking me so long, but I wanted to keep it in the style of the rest of it so I hope it was worth the wait. <strong>

**Now I did promise 'Gemma A.S' that there would be a double update but as you can see this one took me longer than I imagined so I haven't got it typed yet but it written in theory, so shouldn't be long hopefully tomorrow, possibly Wednesday. **

**Hope I caught all the edits, if not please forgive me... **

**I hope you'll let me know what you think of this and that you enjoyed it. **

**As always, my thanks for reading this. **

**Love, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	11. The Winner Takes It All

**Hello lovely people, **

**Thank you for the support on this one as always, you know I really wouldn't write this without you, so thanks. Your comments are like sunshine to me and I appreciate them all and I'm glad that you're still enjoying this. **

**I think it's about time that I resolved this cliff hanger for you right? I know I said the next chapter would be 'Climax' – the most explicitly M piece so far (I also included 'Galway Girl' in that rating because of the nature of the content) but I decided to make you wait just one more chapter. Stick with me, happy ever after drawing closer, though the road ahead is fraught with drama... **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. Also the title of this chapter comes from the song of the same name by ABBA – I really couldn't think of one for this one which wouldn't give away what's going to happen, but I think this is suitably ambiguous; credit to the artists and affiliated companies. **

**I hope you enjoy and will let me know what you think. **

**This one goes out with special dedication to Gemma, you know why and I hope this brings you a smile.**

* * *

><p>He entered the room quietly, mindful of the early hour but somehow knowing that she would not be asleep. He had hardly slept the night before and he knew that if that had been the case, then the chances that she was anything approaching well rested were slim. He crept further into the room and crossed to the bed, his knee only making the slightest depression as he lay down atop the quilt and rested his hand gently on her hip. She shifted closer to him immediately and her hand reached for his, clutching it tightly.<p>

"You didn't sleep at all did you?" He whispered, his lips nuzzling against her neck.

"Not a wink." She admitted.

"It'll be over soon." He promised, knowing that this was one thing in all of this which he could be certain of.

"It sounds so final." She breathed, hating the feeling of rising dread she felt now she was vocalising her thoughts.

He didn't quite know how he was supposed to respond to that so he changed tact, wanting to raise her spirits. "A few more hours and we'll know for sure."

She paused a moment, knowing that it was literally a matter of a few hours before her fate was sealed. "A few more hours and everything changes. Life changes." She told him, not knowing whether she was making a statement or issuing some kind of test for him.

"For the better." He replied immediately without even thinking about it. In the seconds right after the words had escaped him however, he knew that this was something he couldn't say for sure given that they simply didn't know which way the judge would find and he certainly shouldn't have allowed her hopes to be raised.

She turned towards him then, her whole body revolving towards him as she took in what he had just said. It wasn't just his confidence – which she couldn't help but muster hope from – but also his optimism, his certainty that life with her, with the boys would be better, which she took encouragement from. That warmed her heart more than she thought was possible given the fear she currently felt and it was then that she realised just how much he had changed from that over-confident lathario of a registrar to a man who cared and who would do anything to protect her, to make her feel better and to ensure that she knew how much he really loved her.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" She asked in spite of herself, needing that assurance despite everything she could infer.

"Sahira, I am ready for anything, as long as it's with you." He told her with the greatest sincerity as he pulled her closer and drew her mouth towards his.

For several long minutes, the whole world seemed to fade away. As he pulled back the covers and slipped beneath them, never letting her go, feeling her lips move against his as her legs twined with his, it felt like reality couldn't touch them. It felt like here in this room, nothing bad could ever come between them and like they didn't have a care in the world. He didn't know exactly when, but at some point during the kiss, he realised that when all of this was over, there would be nothing better than waking up like this for the rest of his life. He just hoped that now he had found his faith, fate didn't rip away the large measure of perfection he had found in Sahira Shah...

* * *

><p>"Tie." She said as she stood opposite him in the living room and he walked towards her, letting her adjust the knot at his neck with her shaking hands.<p>

When she was somewhere near satisfied with the tie, he reached out to her, tucking a wisp of her hair behind her ear before letting his thumb, rough and slightly calloused though it was, slide down her face and hearing the unmistakable intake of her breathing. "Lipstick." He commented, using the tip of his nail to wipe away the tiniest smudge of the muted rose colour she had chosen for her appearance in court later.

"There. Perfect, as always." He murmured hardly caring if he sounded like he was going soft, the truth was he had been soft on her since the day he had met her and it didn't matter to him one bit because he liked the feeling. He leant in to her and pressed his lips to hers in a sweet, tender kiss.

She indulged him for just a moment, appreciating that he didn't try to deepen the kiss further. It seemed that he understood that her emotions were in too much disarray to contemplate complicating things this morning. She pulled back, creating some distance between them but maintaining the connection with him as she ran her hands up his forearms. "You know" she murmured "if you keep doing that my lipstick has no chance." She told him in mock frustration.

"I'm sorry." He told her and the severity of his tone told her that he wasn't apologising for simply smudging her lipstick.

"Don't be." She replied immediately, encircling her arms around his neck and pulling him close. "I love you." She murmured resting her head on his shoulder for a second.

"I love you too." He told her and for a moment they just stood there holding each other because the thought of facing the uncertainty ahead was too much...

It was as Greg was starting to realise that they did in fact have to move when Caleb came in, fastening his cufflinks as he walked.

"Hey guys... Sorry to interrupt, but we have to go. Our appearance is at 12.15."

The two of them broke apart and Sahira adjusted the front panel of her dress and checked one final time for smudges to her lipstick.

"Ready?" Greg asked, eying her with caution.

"As I'll ever be." She replied, taking his proffered hand...

* * *

><p>They sat in the holding room and she felt all those familiar emotions begin to swell in her chest again. Two days ago sitting here, she had felt like she was fighting a losing battle and now she felt like she was sitting here waiting to be told that the last hope of her survival was gone.<p>

She glanced at the large clock which hung on the wall opposite the seating area and watched the minutes slip by. Thirteen minutes until judgement, twelve minutes until judgement... As the time dwindled away and the impending verdict delivery approached, she began to lose more and more confidence, much as she had before she had been summoned to the courtroom on Wednesday until she was sure she had already lost.

Just as her fears began to overwhelm her, she looked up to see Rafi approaching and her body immediately tensed, preparing for another onslaught of abuse.

"Sahi..." He started but Sahira held up her hand to silence him, unable to handle another argument before they were due before the judge.

"I already told you do _not_ call me that anymore. I _will not _tell you again." She told him coldly.

"Please... I..." He started to reply but something stopped him.

"What?" She asked.

"I wanted to apologise..."

"I don't want to talk about it." She told him.

"I was out of order and I'm sorry. I should never have said those things about you." He told her, ignoring her request to drop the subject.

"Rafi you can't take it back, you've said it now and that's the thing about words – there's a no return's policy." She replied, giving a little giggle at her own quick wit.

"Look I..."

"You... _nothing_" she intersected, "please just go away. I need a moment's peace." She half begged, watching him go with sad eyes.

As soon as he was gone, Greg approached; absenting himself from his murmured conversation with Caleb and sinking down into the chair next to her.

"I lied Greg..."

"Lied about what?" He asked a little confused.

"I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready for this at all."

"It's out of our hands now." Caleb told her soberly as a clerk popped her head around the door and summoned them for their sitting with the judge.

"But you'll be Ok." Greg promised her, "as long as you hold onto mine." He finished as he gripped her hand tightly and they made their way towards courtroom three hundred and towards the rest of their lives.

* * *

><p>"All rise for the Right and Honourable Judge Rosemary Carter presiding." The undersecretary announced and the present parties complied as the concealed entrance to the courtroom which stood behind the judge's desk opened and Judge Carter stepped through looking decidedly less severe than at this moment two days ago, it had to be said.<p>

She took her seat with a slow grace and motioned for those who remained standing to be similarly seated.

"Thank you Miss Clements." She spoke slowly and with practised severity and the undersecretary took that as her cue to leave.

When the door closed, Rosemary turned towards them, her fingers making a steeple on the desk in front of her as she offered them all a small smile, continuing to observe them.

"Good afternoon." She greeted them and they returned the pleasantry. "Correct me if you find fault with my conclusion, but it is my understanding that you are here to receive my final decision in the Shah- versus- Raza case for sole custody of your sons Sunil and Indiana Raza. Is this an accurate assertion?" She asked going through the formality.

The words "Yes your honour" resonated throughout the room.

"As a first order of business, I must sincerely apologise for the necessity on my part to call a two day decision-period with regard to this case. Ordinarily this would not be necessary or indeed warranted, but I felt in this particular case, affording myself some recess was the only way I could gain perspective. I know the decision-period must have been difficult and as a parent, I sympathise - truly I do. But my first duty is to the law and the law requires that I keep the best interests of all parties concerned in focus, including those of the children but also the adults, as such the distance from the evidence presented was deemed to be the most appropriate course of action." She paused, the gravity of the situation pressing down upon them all.

"I will not prolong the amount of time you must wait for the delivery of the verdict in this case, but before I draw this case to a close I must insist that neither party attempt to dispute my decision. It has been carefully considered and has evaluated all evidence and testimonies, it has taken note of all issues raised and it has been decided in the interests of all parties. The decision is final and will not be reconsidered. Is that understood?" She asked raising her eyebrow and waiting for a response.

* * *

><p>As both parties nodded in the affirmative, Greg felt Sahira's grip on his hand tighten and as he looked down between them, he saw that his knuckles had paled to a most ghostly shade of white. He daren't shift his fingers for fear that she would think he was trying to push her off, which was most certainly not the case, but he had to wonder how much good he would be as a heart surgeon without the use of his left hand...<p>

* * *

><p>Sahira's eyes flicked closed as she waited for the judge to deliver her verdict and in the short seconds that her vision became impaired, she became blatantly aware of her blood thudding in her ears as her heart beat faster and faster with every passing second that the judge did not give her decision...<p>

* * *

><p>Rafi shifted uncomfortably casting a nervous glance towards Harry Green, the man who had been about as useful as a doormat would have been in this case. He might have pretended confidence outwardly, had even gone about making Sahira feel bad about her own parenting skills, but the truth was, what they said about playground bullies was true – they bullied because of their own insecurities. He would never admit it openly but secretly he had a feeling Sahira had an edge on him, however slight.<p>

* * *

><p>"Ok, so all things considered and I mean that with the greatest sincerity, this decision has been in accordance with every legal mandate I am bound by. As such I am determining that in the case of Shah-versus- Raza for the custody of Sunil and Indiana that custody is awarded to..."<p>

* * *

><p>She was a wreck. An absolute wreck. Her nerves were jittery and she could barely think straight. As she sat there in the stunned silence which had followed the delivery of Judge Carter's verdict, she swore she was even seeing stars. This couldn't be real, there was no way this could be happening. But it was, it had...<p>

She became mildly aware of someone calling her name and her attention snapped back to the judge who was leaning over her desk looking increasingly concerned.

"Miss Shah, are you quite well?" She asked her tone clipped.

"What?" She asked in disbelief more than anything, but she soon checked her tone. "I'm sorry... I mean I just don't understand..." She murmured quietly.

"Sahira...Look at me, right at me..." Greg encouraged and was grateful when she slowly turned her head towards him.

He reached out to her wiping away the fresh bout of tears which were spilling forth from her eyes. "It's you Sahira. The judge found in your favour. The boys are going to be in your custody. You did it. You won." He told her happily.

'_You did it. You won'..._

'_The boys are mine'... _

_But then that means that... _

She turned her gaze towards Rafi. He had lost and that notion brought her no pleasure. She had never wanted this to be a game, about winners or losers. That hadn't been what she had wanted at all. When Rafi had started this she had known only that she must fight for her sons and though the battle had been hard, she had won. But that still meant that he had lost and she could see as she looked at his stricken face that he was hurting. This notion was only solidified by the single teardrop which sparkled in his eye before it rolled down his cheek and she couldn't help but reach across the space which divided them to wipe it away. It would be perhaps the last gesture of genuine spousal affection she would show this man.

"Well done... Sahira." He murmured and she knew then that he had finally accepted that the part of her life he had been involved in was now over.

"Thank you." She whispered, to him, to the judge, to Caleb, to Greg because it was all that she could do – the only thing there was left to say...

Judge Rosemary Carter, new and secret wife of Frank Matthews- formally of the bar- observed the mother who now sat in front of her and, where previously the older woman had struggled to detect it, now she saw the glow of her impending reinstatement into the world of parenting and she knew that not only had she made the right decision but she had probably just saved the fledgling relationship which she saw evidence of before her. Moreover, she believed she may just have saved this woman's life as she knew it.

"Now, before I conclude this case, I believe there is the small issue of access rights. Counsellor, does Miss Shah present any objections to this condition of custody? Please bear in mind, an answer in the affirmative may send this case on and a new battle may commence." She warned.

Caleb looked towards Sahira but she was not looking at her lawyer. Instead she stared straight at Rafi who looked like right at that moment, life as he knew it was disintegrating.

"No. No I don't have any objections." She told the judge more happily perhaps than she should have, tears spilling down her cheeks again. "I want Rafi to see the boys as must as he needs to, as much as the boys need him to." Sahira insisted and the judge nodded.

"Ok, well given your lack of resistance in this matter Miss Shah, I am going to suggest that by law the children should spend every second and fourth weekend with their father. Given that this weekend would ordinarily constitute the fourth weekend, I suggest that these access arrangements begin in the month of June. Is there any objection Mr Green?" The judge asked this final question tersely.

"No your honour." Harry confirmed after brief conference with Rafi.

"Well then you know the arrangement as far as the law is concerned, am I safe to trust any additional arrangements to your own judgement Miss Shah?" The judge asked.

"Of course." Sahira replied, nodding at Rafi as if to offer him some reassurance.

"Then I see no reason to further impede your reunion with your sons." Judge Carter told her.

"Thank you." She murmured again hardly able to contain her excitement although not wanting to hurt Rafi anymore than this already had.

"There is nothing left for me to do with regard to this matter but to close the case. Congratulations counsellor" she tipped her head towards Caleb, "Miss Shah." She murmured her congratulation towards the fellow mother and then she was gone.

* * *

><p>"Oh my God..." She breathed moments after they had left the courtroom and were headed towards the room where the boys were currently under the care of Gwen. "You did it, you won this thing for me Caleb! How can I ever repay that?" She asked, genuinely feeling indebted to Greg's brother.<p>

"Hey, _you_ won this thing. You didn't need my help." He told her with a laugh.

"I couldn't have done it without you Caleb." She told him and it was honestly the truth.

"Course you could have, you're their mother anyone could see you're the logical choice." Caleb told her feeling he could say these things with the conviction he had always secretly held now that the boys truly were in her custody.

"No I mean it, you were brilliant in there and I don't know how I can ever thank you enough for what you've done for me."

"Anything for Greg's number one girl, you know, I've known my brother _a lot _of years" he paused gratefully as she smiled at his little joke "and I have never known him to be in love but when he's with you, there's no other way to describe him. Now, if you really want to discuss 'payment', promise me two things." He paused waiting for her reaction.

"Of course, anything."

"One: Don't break my brother's heart the way Saoirse did when she left him" they left a respectful pause as she realised what he was truly asking her and indeed how meaningful the comparison between herself and their sister really would be if she ever did leave "and two: Bring him to our Ruthie's birthday celebration. We're going back to Dublin for a weekend. If he protests, remind him he's forever in my debt now." They both laughed and she nodded, not entirely sure the second aspect of Caleb's request would be easily fulfilled, given the history between the family, a history which Sahira only knew a small part of and which it seemed, Caleb had been kept – perhaps rightfully so – in the dark about.

"Besides anything else I'd really like him to meet Maria, my fiancé – he always promises he'll come up to Coventry but then work always gets in the way. You know secretly, I think it's 'cause he can't bear to be apart from you – so I'm thinking, if you came with him – there'd be no excuse." He told her and Sahira promised to do her upmost, despite her own doubts about the reasons why Greg hadn't made it one of the family's many attempts to reconcile.

It was then that Greg rejoined them as they worked their way along the corridors to the children's holding room at the other end of the courthouse, something which made Caleb think that Rafi's original intentions when bringing the children here two days ago had been to make her upset – why else would they have been kept so close when all protocols suggested they had to be kept in a separate area from all legal disputes?

"Oh and where have you been?" Sahira asked playfully, happiness radiating from the very essence of her being.

"Sorry, sorry... I got paged. A CTU case just came in, they need extra hands – I told them you're still in there and that I'd come." He told her, unafraid to tell a little white lie to buy her some valuable time with her boys – it would be worth the potential slap on the wrist if it made her happy.

"You're joking? Really?" She protested, although she knew that he wouldn't mess with her over this.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." She told him a little testily silently cursing herself for ever having pushed Hanssen for a Cardiac Trauma Unit in the first place .It was responsible for many of the problems in her life after all.

"Hey, I was thinking why don't you go and get the boys, take them out for some lunch and an ice cream and then head home and get them settled in with their things? I'll be back in no time and later we'll all go to that pizza place to celebrate." He suggested not failing to notice the hesitant look she shot him.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Are you sure you don't mind them just moving in? They have a lot of stuff. I can't promise complete tidiness..."

He laughed then and she scowled and he leaned in closer to her so only she could hear him "you're really sexy when you're angry, anyone ever tell you that?" he asked with a smile.

"You apparently." She sulked.

"Sahira listen to me, I am ready for this – all of it. You, me and the boys. So move 'em in. Now I really have to go." He insisted and she pulled him close for a quick kiss despite her reservations about PDA's.

"Thank you. I love you." She insisted, her voice warm with affection.

"I love you too." He promised before jogging towards the door.

* * *

><p>Sahira walked into the children's holding area without fear or inhibition, desperately searching the vast expanse of soft play equipment for those small, perfect and familiar children. Within seconds her heightened 'maternal vision' kicked in and she located them, watching as Sunni supported Indy's bottom as he tried to climb onto a cube decorated with numbers.<p>

"_I'm going on a bear hunt... I'm going to catch some real bears... I can't go over it, I can't go under it. Uh oh. I'll have to go 'round it!" _She sang, recalling how many jokes and smiles they had had over that book, particularly as she called the boys her 'baby bears'.

Within seconds, she heard them squealing and imagined them running off to hide from her as she manoeuvred the soft play equipment. Naturally, given her advantage as an adult, they stood little chance against her, but she was surprised by how quickly Sunni had managed to get himself and Indy hidden behind a tall squashy column. It was as she advanced on them that she caught her foot on one of the protective mats and her back hit it with a hard thump. Before she had time to recover herself, she found that she had been ambushed by the two small boys who had wrapped themselves around her in a matter of seconds.

"Oh _there_ you are." She laughed, pretending to be genuinely surprised by their 'attack'. In all honesty, the only thing she could think of was how good it felt to have them cuddling her and how much she knew she would have missed this if she had never gotten to experience it again. "That was super duper hiding!" She told them enthusiastically as she play-wrestled with them a little.

"Can we go home now Mummy?" Sunni asked and she knew as always that her son had tapped into her feelings and made an assumption.

"Yes, we can." She told them, struggling to sit up but managing it after a while. "But

Daddy's not going to be there anymore. We're going to move into a new house." She told them with a frankness she knew she could use with them. She had always been a firm believer that nothing but honesty was appropriate for the children and in such a big decision as this, she thought they deserved to know everything.

"Why won't Daddy be there too?" Sunni asked, knowing that this was the right question to ask for himself and Indy.

"Daddy's going to stay in our house because Mummy and Daddy aren't married anymore. That doesn't mean we don't love you because we do, we really do. It just means that we can't all live together anymore. So you're going to come and live with me in the new house and meet my friend Greg. Does that sound Ok?" She asked, hoping that they said 'yes' now at this crucial stage.

"Will Daddy cry?" Indy asked and his worry made Sahira want to cry right there and then.

"Daddy will miss you lots but he's going to be Ok because he can see you anytime he wants to and you can go and stay with him some weekends and you'll see each other all the time." She promised, hoping that this was true. She couldn't say she was entirely sure given Rafi's intentions to move to Cornwall. What did that mean for the boys now she wondered, since his plan hadn't worked out the way he had hoped, what did he intend to do? How big of a part would he play in the boys lives?

"So we'll live with you Mummy?" Sunni asked, as if he was trying to make sense of it all in his head. She knew it must have been a lot for his mind to process.

"If that's Ok with you, because I just love you two so much." She told them, squeezing them closer for a cuddle.

"We love you too." Sunni replied and that seemed to be all the answer she needed.

* * *

><p>She thanked Gwen for watching the boys as they made their way out of the room and towards the main exits of the courtroom and the younger woman had quickly absented herself from Sahira's company after she had told her that they would not be requiring her services at Greg's apartment, but that she should talk to Rafi about the possibility of staying on when it was his weekend to have the boys. Of course, pragmatically minded as she always had been, Sahira knew that she and Greg would have to advertise for another Nanny – it was just the way work was and even though she had cut down her working hours, she was still a surgeon and hours would still be erratic. She understood all of this and realistically, Gwen would have been the easiest option – the boys knew and trusted her and Rafi clearly did too – but maybe that was the problem. She knew too much about the case and the inner workings of their now ruined relationship and Sahira wasn't entirely sure that <em>she<em> could trust her the way she had done the previous Nanny. So they would look for another person and they would forge their own lives. It was as simple as that, wasn't it? She sincerely hoped so as she clung to Sunni's hand and balanced Indy on her hip with all the finessed practise of the mother she was.

She cast a glance around the atrium of the courthouse, noticing Caleb sitting on a bench just off to the right, talking in hushed tones to Harry Green who it seemed, had still not quite gotten over the verdict. She scanned the space but saw no sign of Rafi, the man she really needed to speak to now. There things to say, questions to ask and yet he was nowhere to be seen. Surely he hadn't left already?

By way of answering her rhetorical question, she saw him coming across the marbled hallway a big, happy smile plastered across his face which she knew was entirely for the benefit of the boys. She could tell because it didn't reach his eyes which right now seemed dead.

"Can I say goodbye to the boys?" He asked kneeling as Sahira lowered their youngest son to the ground.

"It's not goodbye Rafi." She replied, some warmth returning in her address to her ex-husband.

"What if it is?" He asked pensively and she wasn't sure she could handle anymore riddles.

"Look Rafi, before we go any further, I want to say something and I hope you'll listen. Nothing that happened in that courtroom matters now, nothing at all. This is the way it's going to be and we have to accept it and move on. Granted, this is hardly the perfect life we envisaged for our children but the most important thing is, our boys need us – they need us both. I don't want this to affect the kind of Dad you are. I know better than anyone else how much you love our boys and I'd hate to think that an obstacle like this could put an end to a love that strong. I don't want you to be absent from their lives, not in any sense. I want you to be in their 'growing up' photo albums – every birthday, school play, Christmas, the whole shebang. That's what you signed up for and that's what they need you to do. I want you at Sunni's spelling competition next week, I want you there on Indy's first day at school – just because we've fallen out of love, just because we're not together – it doesn't mean that we're not still a team. You can see that can't you?" She asked.

"I see that." He agreed, smiling at his sons and seeing her point with perfect clarity.

"Then please..." She started, moving closer to him and lowering her voice to keep the next part of her request from the ears of their children "don't go. Don't move to Cornwall." She told him and he stared at her intensely for several long seconds before nodding.

"You have a way with words, I'd forgotten that. I'd forgotten so much and I'm sorry." He told her genuinely and she believed that that was what it was – a genuine apology, a reawakening perhaps but more than that, perhaps even acceptance that she had done the right thing in leaving him.

"Thank you." She told him quietly and for a moment they were quiet as they mourned the loss of their old lives, a life wherein happiness seemed so far away.

"I hate to ask this so soon, but can I come by and get their things? They're going to need some clothes and toys." She told him remorsefully.

"Don't be silly, of course they'll need their things. What d'you say boys, shall we go and get an ice cream and then choose what you need to pack for the new house?" He asked trying to remain jovial. This suggestion was met with cheers and they made their way towards the exit after Sahira had assured Caleb that Rafi would drive her home and that yes, she was fine.

* * *

><p>As Sahira stepped out of the courthouse and away from all the pain and uncertainty it had caused her over the past few days, she felt the late May sunshine warm her face and she felt as if some higher power was shining down on her, rewarding her for her efforts and reminding her to have faith.<p>

She paused for a moment on the steps, looking down at Rafi and the boys and realising for the first time since the whirlwind which had swept her up on Wednesday that this case had possibly been the best thing which could have happened to her. Of course, it had caused them both pain and for a moment, it had made her think that she had never really known her husband at all, but now, watching him in the sunshine, she knew that this was precisely what they had needed – the distance to make each other happy again. They had always been better friends than lovers and she hoped that they could be so again. Naturally, she would always mourn the end of their marriage and a part of her life which at one time had offered her so much comfort and stability, but she now felt after months of yearning for the next chapter, she could finally let it begin.

She was snapped out of her reverie by Rafi himself who called to her from the bottom of the steps and as she looked back down at her little family she saw them all – Rafi included- smiling up at her and beckoning her towards them encouragingly. She ran down the remainder of the steps and, as she took hold of Sunni's right hand and she and Rafi swung their son between them as Indy jostled about on his father's hip, she really felt as if she had won all the way around... She would not be separated from her sons after all and finally after so long, she and Greg were free to just be and frankly, nothing excited her more than that prospect as they all made their way towards the ice cream parlour...

* * *

><p><strong>So there it is. I think you had probably guessed the verdict in the case given the nature of this story as HEA but I hope you liked the way I did it. I think with this one, the most important thing for me was to show Sahira's joy but also to have her remain sensitive to Rafi's disappointment. I wanted the importance of their family to be at the centre of this also which I hope came across. I decided to go light and fluffy (as much as was possible) with this one to try to lighten the mood a little as I know this has been quite intense at points. The next chapter will see the beginnings of Sahira and Greg's relationship and from here on out, it will focus on them as they embark on their new life together. I hope you have enjoyed this and will let me know what you thought. Reviews and tweets ( sassybritchelle) are always welcome. <strong>

**Oh and of course the section with the 'bear hunt' is a rewording of the famous lines from _We're Going on A Bear Hunt' _by Michael Rosen - which I think is possibly the best children's book ever invented. No copyright intended. Credit where it's due!**

**I hope I caught all the edits, if not please forgive me. **

**Thank you as always for reading, **

**Love **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	12. You Got What I Need

**Hello lovely people, **

**Once again I must thank you for the interest and the lovely comments you've been leaving me in reviews and on twitter. They really do mean the world to me and keep my writing – despite the controversy which seems to be spreading around on both twitter and here on the site – should I keep my M rated fics up or shouldn't I? That seemed to be the big dilemma – but here's the 4-1-0. Until someone tells me to stop, I'm just going to keep writing to this rating, it's what I've always done. **

**So this is the long awaited aftermath of the court case, there is no Rafi, no custody battle, just Greg, Sahira and the boys and whatever life looks like to that tune. **

**Now I had promised that this would be the M chapter and I had felt that I needed to reconsider that after the day I've had – deleting stories, wishing I hadn't – but I'm going to go ahead with it because I believe that I can do this tastefully – let me know if you think I achieve that goal – without upsetting the rating stipulations. **

**So as I said this morning on twitter, I had a think and 'Climax' no longer seems to fit this chapter's focus, it was intended to mark the end of the court case and to deliver the verdict but given that I got cliff hanger happy, it seems I beat myself to the punch... Never mind. Instead the chapter title here is taken from the song of the same name 'You Got What I Need' by Joshua Radin, so all credit where's its due. **

**My author's note remains the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. **

**As always I hope you enjoy this and will feel free to let me know what you thought of it.**

* * *

><p>They were quiet as they entered the house, but it was not a silence forced by awkwardness. On the contrary it was a silence stipulated by the two small boys who were at current, sleeping in the arms of the adults. Greg found himself fumbling a little clumsily with the keys to the house as he tried to gain control over his right hand whilst balancing the weight of Sunni, a boy whom, despite his slightness, Greg surmised was quite possibly the heaviest seven year old in all of existence. If it hadn't been so essential that they remain completely silent, he felt that he might have laughed. What a prize fool he must have looked trying to do this when he knew Sahira was managing just behind him with all the practised skill of the mother she was. It wasn't until he felt her hand rest comfortingly on his shoulder that he began to relax. If he hadn't been doing alright, she would have said something by now – wouldn't she?<p>

He headed for the stairs without question, his destination clear. It would have perhaps been easier to rouse the boys but Greg knew that what they needed more than anything was their beds and so he would ensure that Sunni got there without waking him, he would do this one thing for the boy if it was the last thing he did. He felt his face screw up into an attitude of complete concentration as he manoeuvred the boy through the door and laid his head against the pillow and he was sure that he heard her stifle a laugh as she placed Indy down on the bed next to his brother. She worked quickly, ridding her youngest son of his shoes, an action which as an inexperienced man in this new world of parenting, he quickly followed for Sunni and he watched in mild wonderment and awe as she brushed the sleeping Indy's hair away from his forehead and placed the tenderest of kisses to the skin there. It was an action so gentle and yet so loving that it spoke volumes for her ability as the boys' mother.

"They're perfect." He couldn't help murmuring as he looked down at the sleeping children, recalling how just hours ago, they had had all the energy in the world but now they seemed as if nothing could wake them. This thought scared him and he found himself studying their chests, looking for signs of life and taking relief from the knowledge that yes, their chests rose and fell, just as they should. So this was what it meant to be a father? Endless worry followed by a magical moment like this. Not for the first time that day, he thanked God for blessing him with Sahira Shah and her little family.

"Aren't they?" She whispered back, proud to the nth degree of her children, he could tell.

They both fell silent then, as if respecting the hush needed for the boys' sweet dreams, but then she locked her eyes with him as she spoke "why don't I finish getting them ready for bed and you go and fix us a drink?" She asked, the merest of glints in her eyes.

He didn't reply, didn't think it was necessary as he retreated from the room, following her instructions like they were his one motivation for living, his only reason for being.

* * *

><p>He had just settled on the sofa having set about pouring them a glass of the champagne she had brought back for them from her little lunch date with the boys, when he felt something jab against his back. It wasn't exactly a painful sensation, but it did cause him enough discomfort that he was forced to turn around and inspect the source of the disturbance to his attempts to keep his heartbeat in check. His hand fished around behind the cushion and he had just managed to pull a rather rotund elephant from its hiding place when she entered the room, her warm laughter redirecting his attention immediately.<p>

"Oh so you met Elliot then? I'm sorry about that, I thought I got everything earlier." She paused waiting for him to process the information, but he seemed decidedly distracted by something else. "You know, I always thought he kind of looks like our Elliot, don't you think?" She asked, reaching out and taking the elephant which sported a chequered shirt and clashing tie which would have impressed Mr Hope for sure.

He nodded, though he couldn't really say he knew what he was agreeing to, his mind seemed to have left the building the second she had walked through that door and he knew he must have looked like an idiot, but he just couldn't help himself...

"Well, I have to say Mr Douglas, I never thought I'd see the day that you were completely speechless, it's so unlike you and yet..." She paused, leaning over the coffee table and retrieving the glass of champagne he had poured for her before moving to join him on the sofa, her body a fluid swish of emerald silk "surprisingly pleasing, I have to say." She finished, taking a casual sip of the golden bubbly liquid and enjoying its sensation as it slid down her throat.

He was completely dumbfounded and he knew that must have made him seem like the most imbecilic man on the planet, but there just didn't seem to be words great enough to express how he felt at that moment. She was beautiful that much he could say without words, but he knew that he had to tell her somehow...

He took a sip of champagne, letting the liquid caress his mouth in the hope that it would somehow loosen his vocal chords and slowly, he felt his voice returning.

"Sahira you look... Wow..." He breathed, those inadequate words seemingly all he could manage for the moment.

"Oh come on!" She laughed, her body inching closer to his, "you must have an opinion, I've never known you not to. Humour me at least, is green my colour? Or is your silence because you think I was right all along?" She asked, harking back to a conversation which seemed a million years old.

"No!" He protested immediately and again, he realised that he must have sounded more than a little idiotic by now.

"No... What?" She asked a little confused, to say the least.

"You weren't right... You couldn't have been more wrong. You're stunning in green." He told her honestly, berating himself for this ridiculous nervousness which seemed to have risen in him.

"You really think so?" She didn't seem sure as she looked down at herself.

"Really, really." He assured her. "You were right about one thing though." He mused on, babbling a little it had to be said.

"Oh? What was that?" She asked, adopting her traditional 'you offended me' pout."

"You definitely _shouldn't wear it out." _He told her.

"Why's that?" She teased, sidling closer and taking another sip of her champagne.

"You be a rich picking that's why. If every man saw you dressed like that I'd lose you for sure." He laughed a little nervously, following his overt jealousy up with a blasé comment "boy am I glad Caleb's not here right now." He told her and instead of angering, she found herself becoming increasingly endeared to his green-eyed monster. It was sweet of him to be so protective.

"That could never happen." She told him resolutely.

"What couldn't?"

"You..." She mumbled leaning in and pressing a kiss to his worried lips before drawing away, "losing me." She emphasised this with a kiss, "me..." another kiss, "losing you." He seemed to get the picture and met her lips before she could punctuate that last bit with another kiss.

He stayed silent for a minute, drawing in a breath as he inhaled the scent of her warm perfume.

"I promise you that couldn't happen. It wouldn't matter if I had all the male eyes in the world on me; the only man I'd ever want to impress is you. I don't care about anyone else, I love you and this..." she motioned towards her attire, "is all for you."

"I love you too." He agreed his grip on her loosening despite his words.

"Greg, what is it? When Caleb said he was heading home, you looked like you'd seen a ghost, what is it? Don't you want to be alone with me?" She asked and her tone was more concerned than anything else as she respected the distance he had placed between them.

"I just wasn't expecting him to leave so soon that's all. I thought he'd head home in the morning at the earliest."

"You didn't answer my question." She told him quietly after a short pause.

"Sahira... You know that's not true, you know I want you..."

"Why do I always sense a 'but' when we talk about this? I thought all you wanted was you and me and our new beginning?"

"I do. I do want that. I just don't want you to think that I'm expecting anything so soon after the case."

"The case is over Greg and we need to move on. I'm a mother not a nun." She told him and Greg couldn't help but laugh at that. The thought of this woman in a habit seemed titillating.

"Well then, am I right in remembering that we were going to make a toast?"

"Hmm... that seems vaguely familiar. Something about champagne in bed... as I recall you wanted to dictate my wardrobe. How'm I doing?" She asked and although he couldn't tell if she meant her recollection or her wardrobe, he realised that it didn't matter.

"You're doing a fine job." He smiled, his tone warm.

"So?" She asked tapping her glass against his as if to signal what she wanted.

"Um..." He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts, trying to think of something to say which wouldn't make him seem even more ridiculous than he probably appeared right now.

"To... Winning the case, to getting your boys back where they belong." He settled on at last with a smile as he raised his glass, but she shook her head.

"To new beginnings, to our life together." She told him and he had to agree that she was much better with words than he was.

They drained the rest of their champagne and a slightly awkward silence settled between them before she leaned in close to him again and their lips met in a tentative kiss which she hastily deepened, admittedly grateful when he returned it.

After several long minutes she pulled back, fixing him with a meaningful stare which spoke volumes of her next as yet non-verbalised question.

"Can I ask you something?"

He nodded, choosing silence over any other alternative.

"Did you mean it?" She asked, her voice low, her stare unwavering.

He was silent as he returned her stare with equal gravity. The sincerity of her tone was enough to tell him that he shouldn't pretend that he didn't know what she was talking about, not that this was possible anyway.

"Of course I did." He told her simply, knowing that there was nothing more that he could say to impress upon her his own seriousness.

"Then prove it." She murmured, getting to her feet and grabbing the champagne and glasses in one hand whilst the other reached out to him. He shot her a slightly quizzical look before she continued, "take me to bed Greg"...

* * *

><p>His nerves as he followed her up the stairs, towards the first floor of the house, were something he couldn't quite fathom. He was hardly innocent, in fact he was probably the polar opposite of innocence when it came to being with women but that was probably the reason why he felt his heart pounding now. He had been with so many women but he had never been with a woman he loved, or been in a relationship which he saw as lasting longer than the stretch of night ahead of them. But this time, everything was different. He did want to be with her, for as long as he could be and forever if it was possible but he knew that given the events of recent days, he would be foolish to assume that forever was something achievable. He could only hope that he would treat her differently, better than Rafi had and therefore that their relationship would have more longevity.<p>

The truth was of course, not that he was nervous about being with her this way – this was after what he had wanted since she had decided that he was worth a shot – it was more that he was nervous about letting her in, he was worried that once he truly opened his heart to her, he would be entirely lost. Finally, he understood why she had been so hesitant when deciding if she could entrust her heart to him – the prospect that the very centre of his existence could belong to someone else was more terrifying than anything had ever been. He worried more than anything that if he truly surrendered his heart, he would lose it and that was the true reason for his nerves.

He didn't let her know this of course, he wouldn't have wanted her to think of him as weak but the truth was he had never made love to a woman he was _in_ love with. Hell, he wasn't sure he'd ever really been in love the way he was now. He had never known such painful happiness, such blissful torture and he felt like losing that feeling could very well be the end of the existence of Greg Douglas as the world knew him. He was a new man now and it was all for her, he just hoped that now they could live it, the shiny new life she seemed to be able to see with him lived up to her expectations, because the thought of letting her down, of disappointing her didn't bear consideration...

* * *

><p>He put his reservations out of his mind, dismissing them as the ramblings of a man in love as she lead him and he clutched her hand. He waited, stopping at a respectful distance as she checked in on the boys on their way past the guestroom and as he watched her, listening to her contented sigh of happiness, he couldn't help but drop a kiss to her shoulder as his firm body pressed against her comparatively soft and curvaceous one. Was it wrong of him to find her this sexy when she was tending to her children? Was it possible for one man to love a woman - to want her - as much as he did right now? Could he imagine anything more perfect than having her here right now – would he want to? As she leant her body close to him and wrapped her hand around his neck, returning his kiss, he didn't think so.<p>

They were quiet as they made their way to the bedroom, their feelings alone enough to propel them towards their destination. Any words they had exchanged at this point would have been unnecessary and he had to admit surprise at how much more exciting it was to know that she was here without having to keep verbally reassuring himself that she was here. He supposed he'd always imagined that if they ever made it to this point he'd want to be vocal about it, at least tell her she was beautiful, but he hardly needed to. He knew that his eyes were doing all the talking he needed them to do, telling her without words how much he loved her.

On the nights when he'd been alone and longing for her touch, he's fantasised about this moment, about unwrapping her item by item and glorying in her splendorous curves until day broke, but he realised that this had been his mistake – he had approached Sahira as he might any other woman, had expected that the act would exist between them but that it would not extend past this, he realised this had always been his mistake. She was like no one else, she made him feel like no one else had, or would, or ever could. He loved her and he wanted to ensure that she felt that - whatever happened next. That was the most important thing for him because he had never felt the dual mixture of love and lust as intensely as this before and he had a feeling if this was the first and last night he ever spent with her, he never would again. She had possessed him and he had no idea how to break that spell, not that he ever intended to...

* * *

><p>He was reluctant to let her go as they entered the bedroom and he pressed the door shut quietly but he wanted her to feel like she could take this at her own pace, so he watched as she moved gracefully around the room, the heady scent of her perfume infusing itself into the air and ensuring that he would never forget her. Her presence in this decidedly masculine room with its dark walls and sheets instantly feminising the space and making him think , for some reason, of bright summer afternoons, the house alive with the children's activity as she baked – an apron emblazoned with the words 'Mummy's Kitchen' adorning her swollen stomach as she carried the most precious gift they could have given each other whilst he watched her and thought about how much he loved her . In reality of course, the emerald flash before him was quickly adjusting the lighting and closing the curtains before she drew back the quilt and looked up at him expectantly.<p>

It didn't take a genius to decipher what she wanted and he was on her in seconds, his body possessing her personal space, his mouth invading hers as he felt her body begin to fold and he became a little unsteady on his feet as she reached behind her blindly and her palm connected with the mattress.

He eased her down, careful not to burden her with his weight as she sank towards the pillows. For several long seconds, they were motionless as they adjusted to this new situation, but it did not take long for them to find each other's lips and once they had, there seemed to be no stopping them...

* * *

><p>In the end there hadn't been a fancy striptease, it hadn't been necessary since they had been too consumed by each other for the longest time to even notice that they were still clothed. Eventually however, they both seemed to become more than acutely aware of this fact and it was with hungry, desperate hands that they began to tug at one other's clothing.<p>

She let out a gasp, her back arching toward him as she felt the dual sensations of his fingers on the strap of her emerald negligee and the combination of rough against smooth as his hand snaked across her stomach. Her body practically flew up against his chest as she scrambled for the buttons on his shirt, her fingers practically clawing at the fabric in an attempt for them to be closer...

She leant forward, her teeth catching his earlobe and tugging gently at the skin there. "Tell me again." She murmured, her voice rich with the husk of lust. "Tell me please." She begged as she felt him flatten her against the pillows once again, his slate-like eyes sparkling with the knowledge of what she wanted.

"I love you Sahira Shah." He promised her ardently "and I want to marry you, more than anything in the world." He told her, punctuating his sentence with the tenderest of kisses and, if she hadn't been already, now she was his...

* * *

><p>He loved the way the soft lamp-light bounced off her perfect body as they moved together, he loved that there had been no words after that reinstatement of his intended proposal, he loved that in the long minutes they had been entwined in each other, her lips had never left his.<p>

Everything about this was slow and sensual, he felt as if he knew every part of her and yet, he knew it could never be enough, forever did not seem like long enough in her company and eternity seemed so far away that he cowered at the thought, but he knew that as long as he lived he would not stop endeavouring to find new ways to make her happy, to bring her the pleasure she craved and deserved.

He cleared his mind, focussing only on her, concentrating on the movements of her hands, which were at current kneading at a knot he had had in his shoulder since the night before the case had commenced. It felt so good to relieve the tension he knew they both felt in this way, it felt wonderful to know that there would be no prying eyes to their intimacies, no one to ask awkward questions, or to expect full disclosure. From here on out, they could just be and for a man who felt as if he had recently been subjected to every kind of scrutiny it was possible to undergo, this thought was joyous.

Beneath him, he felt her break away from the kiss, her head having been thrown off to the side as she let out a frustrated moan and he realised that this was her tell, the one give away, the only thing that he now needed to know. She was about as ready as the knot in his own stomach told him he was and that was all that mattered. As he felt the flat of her foot slide slowly down his buttock, he deftly rolled to one side, switching their positions for the umpteenth time in a matter of seconds.

She settled above him and he couldn't help but notice her smile , finding that it was infectious. As his hands settled on her hips, she leant forward, catching his lips again.

"You..." She told him, thinking about everything that had happened in the weeks they had been together "are _exactly_ what I need." She finished and at last, they became lost in each other.

* * *

><p>He had been right to surmise that there would be no better way to wake than next to her, as he had done when he had crept into her room early this morning. This was only confirmed as he stared into her beautiful, intense eyes now in the deepest, darkest hours of the night. They laid face to face and her hands were tucked beneath her head on the pillow as she studied him almost as intently as he was studying her.<p>

It was not the first time he had woken in the aftermath of the love they had made, but it was the first time that she had joined him in a state of wakefulness. Unlike him however, he could tell she still had the lingering effects of sleep addling her mind and so he remained respectfully silent until she scooted closer to him and he allowed his hand to settle on the small of her back.

On the several previous occasions he had woken, he had simply studied her as she slept, observing the quiet peace and utter contentment which seemed to have found its way onto her face and frankly, until right now when her eyes blazed with love for him, he had thought he had never seen her look more beautiful. Now of course, he realised that to him, Sahira Shah would never stop becoming more beautiful and here and now in the small hours of the morning he was confronted with another example of that.

"You're beautiful." He murmured, his voice sounding odd at this late hour.

She said nothing for a moment, but chose instead to press another kiss to his lips before encouraging him onto his back and settling her head there.

"This is perfect isn't it?" She mused dreamily after a while.

"Mm hmm, you got it in one." Greg agreed, feeling sleep beginning to extend its welcome. He had to decline of course, when he felt the woman he loved shift, pressing small butterfly kisses to the exposed column of his throat and down his chest wall, over his heart towards his stomach...

"Greg?"

"Sahira..." He replied, her name sounding like the roll of the ocean in his beautiful accent, the thrill this caused her was a feeling she knew not many women got to experience.

"Can I ask you something?" She continued after a moment.

"Why do I get the feeling you needed my vulnerability for this question?" He asked, laughter in his tone.

"You're vulnerable?" She replied innocently, although the wicked grin was something of a juxtaposition, it had to be said.

"Would you look at me right now, I'm hardly going anywhere am I?" He teased back, drawing in a sharp breath despite his will power as she continued to pepper his skin with kisses.

"Well, No. When you put it like that..." She shot him another wickedly knowing smile.

"Come on now Miss Shah, don't mince those words, ask away. Don't be shy." He told her with all the mirth he felt in his state of ecstasy.

"Actually..." she paused, her fingers teasing him and catching in the light dark dusting of hair on his chest. "It's not for me..." She continued mysteriously.

"Oh?" She had arrested his attention now and he angled his head towards her.

"It's for Caleb..."

"Caleb?" He seemed utterly confused, she supposed he had the right to be.

"Yes... He wanted me to ask you... a favour I suppose."

"What was that?"

"He... he wants you to go to Ruth's birthday, at home...In Dublin. He invited us both."

"This is my home now." He snapped and as soon as he felt her recoil, he regretted it. "I'm sorry." He replied immediately, "it's just, I thought you understood how I felt about all that... I thought you were on my side." He told her and felt her relax against him, thankfully.

"I do." She replied without hesitation. "I am. I just think... you know, I don't even think it's about Ruth's birthday, I think it's about your little brother trying to reconcile you to the changes in your family. No one is saying that you should forgive your stepfather, but your Mum and your sister love you Greg and I think they just need a chance to tell you that now that you've had some distance."

"I don't think that any amount of distance would be enough to make me forget what happened to Wren."

"I know. I know." She soothed, kissing his chest against.

"I don't know if I can do it."

"I think you underestimate yourself."

"It's so complicated, a mess."

"I know that too and no one is saying that one visit will be enough to fix what's been broken, but I think you need to do this, I think Caleb needs you to do this. Besides, he really wants his big brother's approval on his fiancé. I owe him a great debt, getting you to attend this party was a way for me to begin to pay him back." She told him, preferring honesty.

"What if I don't have the strength?" He asked and she knew this was a genuine concern.

"You will and if for some reason you need some more, I'll be there holding your hand, reminding you that you can do it. I won't let go, not ever." She told him, lacing her fingers with his beneath the covers. "So, what do you say?" She asked.

"I don't Sahira – it's so complicated... I've never been good with forgiveness."

"I know it's hard Greg and I know there are some things which seem impossible to forgive, but forgiveness is the one thing that will set you free. Don't you think that's what Wren would have wanted? You have to at least forgive yourself, Wren was beyond your help and couldn't be saved but you can give her this. She'd want you to be there for Ruth and Caleb and for your mother, she'd know that they need you as much as she did and she'd want you to be in their lives. I didn't know her, but I do know that you have to let her go if you're ever truly going to move on, it's what you need and I'll be there every step of the way, for whatever that's worth."

He reached down to where her head rested against his chest and tipped her chin towards him with his finger "that's worth everything to me. You're right, I need this and I need you too." He told her as sincerely as he could.

"You've got me, I promise you that."

"Thank you."

"So do you think you can do this?"

"I think right now, I feel like I can do just about anything." He told her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she shifted her body again so that they were face to face once more.

In this comfortable position, it didn't take her long to drift off to sleep and then he was left with only his thoughts for company...

* * *

><p>He laid awake and listened to the sound of her breathing, steady now that they had finally relaxed enough to sleep and he thought about what she had asked him. He could tell from the way that she had approached the subject so sensitively that she understood what a big ask it was, but he also knew that now they were in a relationship she would ask him things which made him uncomfortable and that he would have to ask her things which were awkward or sensitive too and he knew that she was silently asking him if he was ready for that kind of relationship.<p>

As he contemplated his response and thought about what he had promised, he knew that he had proven not only to her but also to himself that he was completely ready to be serious, to settle down. Maybe this was the way to prove that whilst she may have been right to say that he didn't understand marriage when the subject had been broached between them a few months ago, he_ could_ learn and he _would _learn how to make their relationship and, if she accepted him when he decided to officially propose, their marriage work and more importantly last.

As sleep caught him in its grips, he thought of her, he thought of her wisdom and sensibility, he thought of her strength and courage and he thought of how much he loved her. As his mind became further addled by sleep, he thought about how much Wren would have liked her, how much she would have liked Wren and as he shut his eyes against his newly perfect world, he swore he could hear his baby sister whispering her approval...

* * *

><p>Sahira woke gradually, her body stretching out and her hand brushing against the space next to her and meeting with cool sheets. She opened her eyes, refusing to panic as she realised that she felt better rested now than she had in a long time. Nothing, not even his absence right now would ruin that for her. She sat up, pulling the sheets closely around her body as she searched the bedroom floor for her negligee. She spotted it to her left and slipped quickly from the bed in order to put it on. Although they had spent the night together and he had seen her completely bare, she wasn't sure how comfortable she was with him seeing her now that morning had broken and she did not have the soft lighting of the lamp to help disguise some of her imperfections. She dressed quickly, fastening her matching dressing gown into place before she dared to venture beyond the safety of the room which contained her memories of the previous night.<p>

She made her way along the hallway quickly, stopping at the guestroom and popping her head around the door. The sheets were rumpled but the double bed was empty and, as she glanced at the clock on the window sill and considered the fact that it was a Saturday, she was hardly surprised to discover this. She just hoped they hadn't caused too much trouble...

As she reached the top of the stairs, she was pleased to hear the sounds of her children's laughter, interrupted occasionally by the low rumbling laugh of the man she loved and she was instantly filled with happiness and a warm feeling she couldn't quite explain.

* * *

><p>Entering the kitchen, she felt like she could have been entering a scene from a movie. The room was light and airy, the windows already thrown open to welcome the warmth of the day whilst the chattering children provided the purest soundtrack to the summer she could have hoped for. She couldn't help the smile which instantly spread across her face as she watched the boys happily engaged in a conversation she neither could nor tried to understand. They were both sat at the breakfast island, their stools pushed close to the edge in a safety-conscious move she appreciated and she had a small giggle as she noticed that Indy's back was supported by one of the big throw pillows from the sofa. This was a little flourish not many people and least of all an ambushed man would ordinarily have thought of and the attention to detail only made her love him more.<p>

Across from them, standing by one of the cabinets as he rooted around inside for something was Greg.

"Beetroot, pickles, crackers... None of this is sounding much like breakfast is it boys?" He asked seemingly crestfallen and completely unaware of his adult audience."Oh wait! Eureka!" He exclaimed, proudly producing a box of _Coco Pops_ from the depths of the cupboard.

He turned back towards the boys and was immediately caught off guard by her presence. God, did she look beautiful standing there with her slightly dishevelled hair, swollen lips and sparkling eyes. If he hadn't been in the company of children he would have happily taken her in his arms right there and then.

"Hello you." He greeted her and the boys immediately turned towards her, their loving delight clear from their excited squeals.

"Hello yourself." She replied warmly, kissing each of the boys on the tops of their heads but looking right at him. "I hope my baby bears haven't been too much trouble?" She asked a little concerned that they might have been a bit full on for Greg on his first real day of getting to know them.

"Trouble? You can't mean these two?" He gestured towards the boys. "We've been having a ball haven't we boys?" He asked and she sensed that he needed that reassurance.

"But we haven't played with a ball..." Indy replied, clearly confused and the two adults laughed at his pure, unadulterated innocence.

"Greg means you've had lots of fun." Sahira clarified, ruffling the small boy's hair.

"Lots of fun!" Indy exclaimed then, his smile wide.

Sunni agreed, nodding his head zealously, before proceeding to explain what they had been up to "we watched cartoons on the big television, then Greg helped us make a den with the sofa cushions. It looks really good, Greg's a good captain." He told her proudly.

"He is hmmm?" Sahira asked, looking directly at Greg and mouthing her thanks.

"Yep. That's right, we were just exploring in the jungle when we realised how hungry we were, so I thought I should fix us some breakfast... Only I realised we haven't been shopping yet, so I'm afraid it's some _Coco Pops_ - cereal I probably shouldn't still eat at my age."

"Why?" Indy wanted to know.

"Grownups are meant to eat rabbit food that's why." He joked, not realising that as little children, they would take him literally and not understand figurative language.

"But that doesn't taste good at all." Sunni protested, wrinkling his nose.

"You're right, it doesn't!" He agreed with a laugh. "So I think we should have a bowl of this instead." He told them, shaking the box as he retrieved four bowls from another cupboard.

"Does Mummy want a bowl?" He flicked his eyes up to Sahira and he saw her own flash with a strange emotion he had never seen there before.

"Yes please." She replied, feeling an odd sensation rising within her in the aftermath of his calling her 'Mummy', it had been innocent enough she knew, but it felt so natural and hearing the word in his sexy accent sent a shiver straight to her spine.

She moved around the breakfast island to the work surface and flicked on the kettle casually. "Tea?" She asked.

"Please." He replied and suddenly she could imagine spending every Saturday morning this way, forever...

As the boys munched noisily on their cereal, paying little attention to the adults as they devised plans for the day's adventures in the den, Greg stole an opportunity to properly greet her and to gauge her reaction to last night and to waking up this morning in the aftermath of the night before...

His hand rested for the briefest of seconds on her hip as he moved closer to her, his lips brushing her hairline. "Good morning." His voice was gruff but his greeting full.

"Morning." She replied, daring to turn her head towards him a little, quickly nipping at his jaw.

"I hope this is Ok?" He asked as they broke apart.

"This... this is more than Ok. This is too much, you didn't have to get up with them."

"It's no problem, I had fun this morning." He dismissed her concern.

"...and last night?" She asked shyly.

"Last night was _not _just 'a bit of fun' for me, if that's what you're asking." He told her and he saw her relax more than a little. "Last night was incredible and I love you." He told her quietly.

"I love you too." She replied as the kettle boiled and suddenly they had something else to distract themselves with.

As they joined the children at the table, he handed her the bowl of cereal he had poured her with a slight attitude of embarrassment. "I'm sorry about this, this isn't how it's supposed to be. I should have made sure I had something more... elegant in." He told her by way of explanation.

"Elegant? Like what?" She asked, a small giggle in her voice.

"I don't know. Fresh orange juice... French toast... something..." He seemed frustrated with himself.

"Greg this is perfect." She assured him but he didn't seem convinced.

"Listen to me, this... you..." she motioned to the three of them at the table "are all that I need. _You're_ what I need." She assured him and with that affirmation, they continued to eat their breakfast in anticipation of the day ahead, both avoiding the fact that later that day, Greg would have to go into work, breaking the spell and propelling them back into the real world...

* * *

><p><strong>Well there it is, I hope you enjoyed it. I hope the M rated section was to your satisfaction, despite it being a little different to my usual approach. I wanted to depict the moment of their togetherness, something they have been waiting for since they decided to get together but also to focus on the family aspect because after all that is what they are now. <strong>

**Feel free to leave a little review or tweet me ( sassybritchelle) hearing what you think always makes me smile. **

**Please forgive any editorial mistakes, I hope I caught them all ;-) **

**Thank you once again for reading, your support means so much to me. **

**Much love always, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	13. Feels Like Home

**Hello lovely people, **

**Sorry I have been away from this one for so long, I had to update my other story as I hadn't worked on it for a couple of months owing to this one. I'm glad you liked the last chapter and wanted to thank you for the support, it means a lot to me. **

**The title of this chapter is taken from the song of the same name as recorded by Edwina Hayes. I watched **_**My Sister's Keeper **_**at the weekend for the second time around and this song inspired me to write this chapter, although there is no sadness in this one I promise.**

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>As he hung his keys on the hook inside the door, he knew that coming home to this was something he would never tire of. From his position in the hallway he could hear the sound of the boys laughing, a sound so pure and wonderful that he didn't remember how he had ever functioned without it in his life. For the past few weeks he had found that coming home was an experience for all his senses and tonight was no exception. As well as hearing that delightful sound coming from the living room, just beyond that in the kitchen, he could smell something delicious and he headed immediately towards it and towards the beautiful woman who was responsible for welcoming him home in such style.<p>

* * *

><p>He pushed open the door and there she was. A sight for sore eyes, a welcome relief for a man who had been on shift for the best part of eight hours and under the scrutiny of an overbearing Swede for the majority of that time. As he entered, he caught her just as she leant over the pan on the hob and took a spoon to it for tasting. He remained silent for a moment as he watched her from this profile angle. The moment the sauce touched her lips, her eyes flicked shut and she let out a low noise of approval, which he could not help but find more than a little erotic.<p>

He took his opportunity then, approaching her from behind, wrapping his arms around her and settling his head on her shoulder. He heard her gasp at the shock but then the sound she had made just extended and she relaxed into him, turning her head and pecking him on the cheek.

"Hello." When she spoke, her voice still held an air of the surprise she had expressed.

"Hey." He smiled and this only widened when she turned her head more and let her lips brush his.

"Cooking up a storm?" He asked looking over her shoulder at what she was doing.

"Uh huh. Just for you...and me. I thought we could have a little romantic dinner before I have to go to work. Here, try this." She told him, offering him the spoon and waiting for him to try some of the sauce she had been working on.

"Mm" he found himself mimicking the sound she had made a few minutes ago. "That _is_ delicious, new recipe?" He asked liking the mix of flavours he could taste.

"Yeah actually it is. I wanted to make something from scratch – Chicken with lemon Bombay potatoes."

"Sounds amazing. What're the boys up to?"

"They're in the living room with Kelly, the new nanny. I thought it was probably a good idea to let them bond with her seeing as they're going to be with her a lot during the week. They had dinner together a little while ago whilst I got dressed for work." She told him and he could hear the reservation in her voice.

"What's she like?" He asked sensing it was the right question.

"Oh she's very sweet and she has a great CV." Sahira replied half-heartedly.

"Ok so where's the negative?"

"What do you mean?" She asked pouring the sauce over the pre-pared chicken and potatoes ready for baking.

"Come on Sahira, I know you. I know that voice. What are you worried about?" He asked, getting right to the heart of the issue.

"It's nothing. It's just, I don't know... It's just that I feel like I've only just got them back and I'm asking someone else to take care of them. It feels like I'm losing them all over again." She admitted knowing it was pointless to lie to him.

He pulled her to him then when she had finished putting the food into the oven and he just held her, knowing it was what she needed right now. "Listen to me Ok? No one is going to take your boys away from you again, I promise you that. They know that you're going to come back – how many times have I watched them over night and then when they wake up, there you are. This is no different, this is better if you think about it because Kelly will only be here during the day and you and I can take turns over night. We both knew that this needed to happen and you'll get used to it – I know it. Ok?" He promised her and again she found that he was exactly what she needed.

"Listen to me going on, how're you? How was work?"

"Well now that you mention it, I know we said we'd cut Hanssen some slack given what he did for you but seriously, I thought I was going to bite my tongue off trying to hold it today, I mean is making other people feel small the only way he can feel good about himself?"

"Was it really bad today?" She asked motioning towards the dining table.

"He was just riding me over CTU all day. Something about figures and targets, I don't know, maybe it's just me but you know I've never been about statistics, patient care is my thing. I mean, you know I'd do anything for you, anything at all but someone needs to tell Hanssen that people aren't going to put up with it forever."

"I'm sorry hon, I mean the only thing I can suggest is talking to him, Henrik isn't really the heartless monster everyone thinks he is." She tried to assure him, knowing that it was probably little consolation for the way their boss had spoken to him.

"Hon?" He tested the word out, noticing it was the first time she had called him that.

"Yeah..." she started, leaning over him and sliding her palms down his chest as she brushed her lips against his cheek. "Is that Ok?"

"Mm hmm." He said after a moment's consideration. "But you know, I don't think there's any taming him. I think _I'm_ the problem, I'm running CTU now but I don't do it as well as you do."

"That is just not true." She assured him using her finger to tilt his chin towards her before dropping a kiss to his lips. "You're doing a fine job."

"You know, I think it's really to do with the fact that I miss you too much when I'm on shift and you're not. There's no one there to make jokes about Naylor with or to bounce a procedure off, or even to fight with. I think I'm getting too stressed out and letting him get to me like I did when I was frustrated that we couldn't be together." He admitted and she was silent for a moment as she thought about this, about how stressed he had been in that time and how equally frustrated she had been and she understood the pressure he now found himself under with perfect clarity.

"Well, as of tomorrow that will no longer be a problem. We're pulling a shift at the same time and if I remember the rota correctly our good friend Jac Naylor is also on duty – so there'll be plenty of time for humour - in secret of course. As for Henrik, leave him to me. I'll have a word with him and see if he won't back off a little, he has to make allowances for you to adapt to the new role and for the fact that I am working normal hours from now on, I'm not the be all and end all of the department – nor have I ever been." She told him resolutely, determined to make this transition period more bearable for Greg.

"You are to me." He told her and it sounded as sincere as anything he had ever said had done.

"So..." She said getting up and busying herself with serving up two plates of the newly baked chicken and potatoes, ever conscious that her seven 'o' clock shift was soon to begin. "Do you think that us working together properly again is going to exacerbate or alleviate this problem for you?" She asked placing a plate down in front of him.

"That depends Miss Shah."

"On what?" She asked, eating a forkful of chicken.

"Well, how do you feel about supply cupboards?" He shot her one of his charming smiles before she swatted him with a magazine which had been lying on the table.

"Shut up and eat." She told him, her tone admonishingly playful.

There was a throbbing silence filled with pent up desire as each of them ate. As she took a sip of her water, she fixed him with a meaningful, intense and yet mischievous stare. "Hey, if you're _really_ nice to me, maybe we'll talk about it." She said after a while, unable to keep in her giggle.

"Aren't I always?" He asked raising an eyebrow at her boldness before continuing to eat the delicious meal she had prepared for him.

* * *

><p>Minutes later, after having washed up, straightened themselves out and bade Kelly good night with thanks and the assurance that they would see her tomorrow morning at seven thirty, they found themselves in the living room having a little time together with the boys before she had to head off to work. Indy had cocooned himself around his mother's body and at the current moment, she was trying desperately to prize him off so she could put her jacket on and collect her bag, ready to drive the short distance to Holby in preparation for her shift.<p>

"No Mummy! Not going!" The little boy protested despite both Greg and Sunni's efforts to distract him with numerous colourful toys and the promise of snack-time cookies before bed.

"Indy Mummy _has_ to go, I've got to work. Mummy makes people better remember?" She asked, trying to soothe him with her voice in the way only she could.

"Nope! You won't come back!" Indy accused.

"Hey, Indy you know, Mummy comes back when you're sleeping. That's why she's always here when you wake up. So I tell you what, why don't we wake up really early and make her a special welcome home breakfast?" He suggested, hoping that this prospective act of kindness for his mother would cause him to disengage from her.

"Yes!" Indy agreed enthusiastically, unwrapping himself from Sahira and scooting over to Greg, allowing his mother to go about getting ready for work.

As she shrugged on her jacket and applied a fresh coat of lipstick she turned back around to observe the way Greg interacted the boys and watching him as he swung Indy into the air made her certain that he had adapted to this life and she was sure then, more than she had been since leaving her old life behind that she had made the right choice.

"Thank you." She mouthed at him as she leaned down to ruffle Sunni's hair and he looked up at her adoringly.

He said nothing for a moment, scooping Indy onto his hip and following her out of the room and towards the hallway. As he left, he was all too aware of Sunni following closely at his heels and knowing that the boys liked him so much was such a good feeling, he could hardly believe it.

"I'll see you in the morning boys. Night, night." She told them, leaning in for a kiss from each of the children.

"Love you millions Mummy." Sunni told her.

"Love you millions more babies." She told them, looking up at Greg then. "I love you too by the way."

"Millions?" He joked and she smiled.

"More." She promised.

"You know, I understand how the boys feel, I wish you could just stay here with us." He told her, a pout on his face.

"Me too. But I finish at twelve, so maybe when I get back we can have a little... _cuddle." _She replied and his eyes sparkled. "How's that sound?"

"That sounds perfect." He told her.

"Good. Well then, I'll see you all later." She told them, opening the door and grabbing her keys from the hook a little reluctantly. "Love you." She called back.

"Love you too." They shouted, heading back into the house surrounded by a happy little bubble.

* * *

><p>She entered the dark room quietly exactly five and a quarter hours after she had left and found it disappointingly empty. When she had suggested 'cuddling' earlier, she had thought he had understood, had been enthusiastic even, for her return home but he was nowhere to be found. She tried not to take it to heart, instead focussing on unbuttoning her jacket and stepping out of her shoes, but the truth was, she was frustrated that he wasn't there.<p>

As she pulled her blouse from her skirt and began to unbutton it, she heard the merest creak of the oil-thirsty hinge to the en-suite and she knew he'd been holding back for the right moment to ambush her. For a moment she played dumb, pretending that she hadn't heard a thing as she continued to pop buttons open, but he surprised her by flooding the room in light.

"Not waiting for _me_ are you?" He asked, his tone playful.

"What gives you that idea?" She aimed for nonchalance, though her breathing had already quickened.

"Oh," he started, his voice suddenly seeming closer as he strode towards her. "I don't know. Just had a feeling." His tone held the passivity, the coolness she had tried for and failed at and she huffed out a long sigh which quickly evolved into a full-on gasp as he spun her towards him and they were body to body. It took her a moment to recover but when she did, she noticed something it would have been hard to miss if she wasn't so affected by him all the time... _He was completely bare_. He was also overwhelmingly_ impressive_.

Not that this was the first time she had noticed this about him of course. On the multiple occasions they had been together in the time she had been here, she could not have failed to notice his _impressiveness, _but she always felt the slight flush of embarrassment when confronted by him like this – not least because every time she was, she couldn't help but think back to the first time she had seen him like this. It had been quite by accident of course, although given that she had gone into the men's locker room and had heard the shower running, she would have been foolish to think that what had happened wouldn't happen...

Her eyes flicked closed of their own volition as she thought about it: the way he had strode so confidently from the shower, as if he had been expecting an audience. She recalled with astounding clarity how every sinew of his body was both toned and expansive, how the water had glistened on his skin, drawing her eyes down his body despite her better judgement, highlighting his _impressiveness_. She shouldn't haven't been looking, had berated herself afterwards. She had been unable to think straight throughout her conversation with him but the fact was, that had been an early indicator to her secret desires and she had not forgotten the way she had felt that day, she could not.

Nevertheless, as she stood there in front of him, his mischievous eyes boring into her, she couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable. He seemed so confident in his nakedness and she had never experienced that before - not in Rafi and certainly not in herself - and she guessed that she was still getting used to his expectation that she would behave with a similar confidence.

"Now Miss Shah, I think you're a little _overdressed _for this 'cuddle', don't you?" He asked, careful not to touch her. He wanted her to decide, he wanted her to show him that she felt the same way as he did, that she wanted him the way he wanted her.

"Oh really? What if I was just thinking of having a conventional cuddle?"

"Were you?" He asked but he didn't need an answer, she was currently stripping out of her blouse and unzipping her skirt with one hand whilst the other reached for him.

"I missed you tonight, God I missed you so much. Is it weird that I don't want to be apart from you?" She asked. "Does that sound too 'teenage' of me?" Her words were spaced far apart, her breathing heavy between each one as she fought with the dual concepts of speaking and kissing.

"Not at all, I can relate to that. I feel that way about you. Completely" He told her as they fell onto the bed.

* * *

><p>"This is perfect." She sighed sleepily.<p>

"Isn't it?"

"You know, the whole time at work I was just wishing that I could come home to you and the boys and spend time here. I've never felt that way before. I mean of course I've missed the boys before - every day, but this was different, this was the whole package. I missed being home, I missed having someoneto come _to, _something other than bath time with Sunni and Indy to come home _for_. God I do sound like some love-sick teenage girl with a huge crush on a very sexy Irish registrar, don't I?" She giggled at herself a little self-consciously.

"Maybe you do. But I like it, especially since your 'teenage-self' thinks I'm sexy. The Irish registrar thinks you're sexy too, for your information." He told her casually with a low, rumbling laugh. We missed you too by the way." He told her brushing a kiss into her hair, knowing it was true.

"Well, it just feels like home here."

"I'm glad." He replied, for what else was there to say to that? They were the words he'd been longing to hear after all.

"No. I mean it feels like home_ here." _She repeated, giving him a little squeeze, pressing her head to his heart and delighting in the feeling of his arms re-establishing their embrace around her again. They were silent then and she pressed a tender kiss to his lips before they fell asleep...

* * *

><p><strong>There it is. I hope you liked it and will let me know what you thought of it - tweet me ( sassybritchelle) or review me, both are welcome. I decided to go with the 'at home' chapter first just so that you could get used to the new family dynamic. The next one (which I'll be working on right away) is Ruth's party. <strong>

**P.s: The recipe herein is something my sister made the other day it was delicious!**

**Please forgive me any editorial errors, I have tried my best. **

**Thanks as always for reading. **

**Love, **

_**X~Michelle~X **_


	14. The Last Dance

**Hey lovely people, **

**Thanks so much for the support on this, can't quite believe that it's at fourteen chapters already. This is all down to you, so thanks. So this chapter is going to be Ruth's party back in Ireland, hope you enjoy it. **

**This chapter's title is inspired by the song of the same name by Clare McGuire, so credit where it's due. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Three months had passed since they had settled into their new relationship, it was Friday, the beginning of the dying weekend of September and they were currently sitting on the plane taking the short flight to Galway. The party was in Dublin beginning in the afternoon tomorrow and it perhaps would have been more practical to fly there directly, but Greg had wanted to make a stop in Galway first and she didn't need to ask why or pass comment on the logistics of this arrangement. She would go along with it because she loved him and this was what he needed.<p>

Sahira was thinking about this now as she rested her head on his shoulder and listened to the even sound of his breathing as he slept. They had caught the early evening flight after having dropped the boys at Rafi's for his second weekend that month. It had been strange for her to arrive at their house, to go back inside, to politely drink the tea he offered her and to see that slowly but surely, little by little she was being erased from life there. She had mixed feelings about this, but overall she felt that it was a good thing, it showed her that he was willing to move on, to let her go. At least she didn't have to feel weird or creeped out walking in there and seeing the wedding portrait still on the wall. Fortunately, he had taken that down and had even had it wrapped and stored. She was glad that he was handling this well, or at least better than she had expected, or he had initially indicated.

It wasn't a particularly late flight or indeed a long one, but it _had_ been a tough week. Jac had been particularly vicious this week owing to the new targets Hanssen had been pushing the department to meet and this had taken its toll on Greg as CTU lead and consequently upon Sahira who was effectively now a general registrar on the ward. It was for this reason that she had been unsurprised that he had fallen asleep almost as soon as they had been in the air, in fact it had been all she could do to stay awake but she had so wanted to observe the view from the sky. Besides, it was a rare occasion that she got to watch him when he was so peaceful, so content and she wanted to take advantage of that.

Just as she was about to give into her own lethargy, the orange 'seat-belt on' symbol lit up and soon the flight attendant was encouraging them all to refasten their seat belts and Sahira sat up, shaking Greg's shoulder to rouse him. This gesture seemed to be just in time because instead of using stern words to wake him, the flight attendant redirected his attention after offering the sleepy couple a small smile.

Greg stirred, quickly rubbing his eyes and blinking against the combination of early evening sunshine and artificial strobe lighting on the plane.

"Hey." He mumbled, his mind clearly still addled with sleep as he leant in for his 'good morning' kiss.

Sahira indulged him, murmuring her greeting in reply and pressing her lips to his briefly. "You remember where we are right? We're just about to land."

"Back here again, in spite of everything." He muttered darkly.

"I know it's hard, I know it is but you can do this, I promise."

"I hope you're right." He replied as the plane descended and they bumped to a halt on the runway.

* * *

><p>He opened the door to the cab, waiting as was gentlemanly, for Sahira to get in and he couldn't help but think about how grateful he was that she was here with him. He had of course felt that way after she had flown here the last time, but having her here from the beginning of this trip, supporting him, stepping out as his girlfriend and showing up for a family event with the family from Hell meant more to him than she would probably even realise.<p>

She slid into the cab with a grace which did not even surprise him anymore. He had come to recognise that just as sneaking a packet of contraband ready-salted crisps on her break was a part of her, so was a natural elegance and poise even when they were travelling casually. On several occasions, he had been guilty of staring shamelessly at her, wondering why on Earth a woman like her, who looked just as good in her 'mint – humbug' striped blazer and jeans as she did in the Karen Millen power dresses she wore to work, would be interested in him. He was the exact opposite of her – he was scatty and disorganised, he was cool and laid back, he was messy and dishevelled and yes, he would always sport that slightly rough-and-ready look, the glint of mischief in his eyes which would never fail to sparkle. When he really stopped to consider it, there were so many indicators of difference between them that he often found himself in a panic to think that one night, perhaps after they had made amazing love – a part of their relationship he could safely assume they were both very happy with – she would lie there awake, looking down at this man , this stranger and realise that aside from a love of medicine and (perhaps less willingly admitted) starchy foods, they had absolutely nothing in common. He supposed that was the double edged knife of being in love. He had waited his whole life to feel about someone the way his Da had felt about his Mum and now that he did, he spent most of his time worried that he wouldn't be good enough, or that she would leave him. But she hadn't yet and despite all the differences he could find between them, they shared one commonality – they loved each other and this was what made them work. There was no contrition, there was no pretence. They were always honest with each other and suddenly Greg had found himself in his first ever stable relationship – totally in love and feeling exactly the way he had the first day he had seen her now, even after everything they had been through. He knew this was a rarity and he would do just about anything to hold onto that.

He got into the cab beside her, turning to face her and finding himself greeted by laughter.

"What?" He asked smiling lopsidedly.

"Nothing. Well something. Just you. What are you thinking about?"

"You." He admitted, giving the instruction to the driver to take them to a little hotel he had found. Staying at Ian's pub overnight would dredge up too many memories of the last time they were here and he didn't want to be subjected to the old man's pity or questions, similarly, despite having almost all of his family here, staying with them was out of the question.

"Oh? What about me?" This wasn't the first time she had heard him give her that answer to this question and she always enjoyed probing him for more details, especially since there was always something in particular he was thinking about in relation to her and it interested her to know what that was. These glimpses into his mind were not to be missed.

"How much I love you... and how good you look in your humbug." He laughed and she socked him playfully in the arm, taking this joke about her jacket in as good humour as she had the day she had brought it home.

"Anyone would think you didn't like this poor jacket." She told him, her chin jutting out in jest.

"On the contrary, I approve of that jacket very much. In fact, I always find you look particularly _appetising _in it. What is it they say about mint humbugs – hard on the outside, soft and inviting on the inside?" He asked suggestively and she felt her body fill with warmth at the prospect he seemed to be hinting at.

"Oh and what makes you think I'd be 'inviting'?" She asked, her tone indignant.

"Just a hunch." He shrugged, paying the driver as they rolled to a stop and grabbing their bags from the bag before pulling her a little over zealously to the reception desk.

* * *

><p>Almost an hour later they emerged from their room, their clothing a little the worse for wear and their faces wearing twin smiles. Besides these two small factors, significant only to the two of them, they looked like any other holidaying couple as Greg approached the concierge and requested a taxi. This weekend was about enjoyment, about reconciliation, about family – or so she kept trying to convince him but for right now, given that they only had an overnight stay booked here in Galway, their minds had turned away from their brief Irish interlude and towards the far more serious matter which had brought them to Galway.<p>

They were back in a cab and on their way to the address Greg had provided to the driver. Ordinarily given that they were travelling through Galway after trading hours, the stop he was making before their final destination would have been futile but the good thing about having lived in a community of this size was that people always knew you – if not personally then by association and the special case Greg had pleaded with the kindly old lady was well known to her and tugged at her heart strings and so, despite the unorthodox hour, she had agreed to help the man who had once been the boy she had offered her change to in order for him to buy sweets for the poor little girl who had sadly departed.

Greg took Sahira's hand as they got out of the taxi and headed towards the shop whose frontage hadn't changed since the day he had left this place, save maybe for the odd peel in the paintwork. He knew it was foolish, he knew he should have been able to handle being back in this Godforsaken place alone, but somehow it weakened him to be here and so he clung to her hand as the bell attached to the door rang to notify the rapidly deafening Hannah that a customer approached.

She appeared immediately, a smile of recognition instantly lighting up her face as young Gregory Douglas stepped from the shadows into the pool of light at the back of the shop, only, he wasn't so young anymore. He was a man and yet, in his eyes she saw the mischief of the boy he had been and on his arm was a woman who oozed sophistication and spoke silently, of the journey the out of place Dubliner boy had taken to become the man he was now. This warmed her heart, especially given the circumstances of his visit.

"Mrs Donovan hi, I'm sorry it's so late." He apologised.

"Not at all, I would have only been doing the off cuts for tomorrow and please, call me Hannah."

"Hannah" he murmured pausing as she searched behind the counter for what he hoped would be his order. "Did you manage to find it? I know it was short notice." He sounded apologetic again.

"Nonsense. Nothing is ever too difficult for a seasoned pro like me." She dismissed with a wave of the hand.

"Thank you."

"You're quite welcome." She told him, handing him the large box. "I think you'll find _everything_ you asked for is in there." She continued, shooting a quick glance at Sahira before looking back at Greg.

"You're an angel." He told her, digging in his back pocket for his wallet and retrieving a wad of notes from within when he had.

"That's enough of that young one. I don't want your money child, spend it on your girl here."

"You don't?"

"No. I don't. Not under the circumstances. You know, I'm always saying to my Dermot – that Paddy Walsh he was no good,_ no_ good." She shook her head and patted him comfortingly on the shoulder. "No of course, you must take it. Take it to darling Saoirse, God rest her poor, tormented soul." She smiled though her eyes were watery with uncried tears. Greg wondered briefly why she had referred to Paddy in the past tense, but given the woman's clear unrest, he didn't push her.

"Thank you for your help, it means a lot to me and I know it would have meant a lot to her. I don't think she even knew that you knew her... or had an interest in what she was going through at least."

"Oh we cared young one, a lot of us."

"Well she could have used a friend like you."

"I know dear and Lord knows I tried. Sometimes, we just have to admit we're not the right person for the job though." She told him sadly and Greg thought about the chances of hearing that phrase again in these circumstances.

"With my sister, I think there was always only one person who was 'the right person'." He told her, a little snippily.

"Mm the trick is finding that person."

"She found him. It was me." Greg told her and they thanked her again before they left the shop.

* * *

><p>"Do you think this is stupid?" He asked a few minutes later when they entered the churchyard.<p>

Her arm was looped through his in support and he carried the box that Hannah had given him. Though she knew what was inside of it in a broad sense – they had been in a florist's shop after all – she knew that whatever was in it was particular and sentimental to Greg and to Saoirse. She remained silent, knowing he would tell her in his own time.

"I'm sorry I'm being so secretive about all this." He told her, as if reading her mind.

"Don't apologise, it's Ok you know. I know it's hard for you to be here, to be without her." She told him completely forgivingly.

"Do you want to know what's in the box?" He asked.

"I want to know if you want me to know." She told him, reminding him of the way their relationship worked. They afforded each other space, but they were there for the things that mattered.

"Of course I do." He told her, untying the ribbon around the box and lifting the lid. "It's a black orchid. Just one." He paused and watched her suck in the breath he had been anticipating her to take and then continued "I know."

Her silence said it all really. It was almost an unexplainable thing. How did he begin to tell her that his sister had almost anticipated her death, had been strangely accepting of it even? How did he tell her that six months ago, two nights after the anniversary dinner, he had received a call asking him in her warm, teasing voice to 'p_op down to the local for a Guinness'? _How did he tell her that when he had done as she had asked, she'd been waiting for him – in Bristol. She had been in Holby, her face gaunt, her hair dishevelled and her eyes knowing? How did he begin to explain that she had detailed the latest of the horrors she had suffered at the hands of that man? How did he tell her that she had admitted her drug addiction? But most importantly, how did he admit to the woman he loved, the woman who _always _stepped into help in situations like these that when she had told him she was heading back to Galway to 'score' her next fix from a friend, he hadn't even fought that hard to stop her, had known even then that she was lost to him? How could he tell her that the last thing she'd said to him was _'visit my grave Greg, promise?'_ to which he had remained stoically silent, unwilling to accept what she was telling him. He remembered her final sentiment so clearly _"love you millions."_ She had told him, the way she always had as a child. "_Love you millions more."_ He had said and he supposed now with the benefit of retrospect that was why it had meant so much to him to hear those words exchanged by Sahira and her boys and indeed that was why he had enjoyed engaging in the little banter with her. How did he begin to tell her that he had failed utterly? As a doctor, as a man and as a brother? He didn't. That was his answer. He couldn't. So he just didn't. Instead he would tell her another part of the story.

"Wren always liked the uniqueness of the black orchid. She said there weren't many like it and when one was found, it should be treasured. All her life even as a girl, she'd tell me she wanted to be that flower, the only one of its kind in a world filled with roses of every colour. I told her she already was. But it was never enough for her..." He choked and she squeezed his arm comfortingly, reminding him, he supposed, of her presence and support.

"It's Ok." She half hummed, knowing that for Greg, whatever else it might have been, losing Saoirse would never be Ok. She had to remind herself that he was not a patient. He was not looking for her to placate him, he was looking for her to make it better and she knew that of all the things she could do for him this was not one of them.

"The last time I saw Wren, I mean properly saw her, things were bad. Actually..." He paused "bad is an understatement." He concluded before going on "things were worse than they had ever been, she just sat there, her eyes not really focussed on anything as she explained what he'd done to her this time. She was so cold, so controlled, nothing like the little girl I had once known and I couldn't say anything. After that... she told me there was only one way to take away her pain and she admitted that she knew it'd be the death of her. I mean Jesus Christ, she was a month away from her twenty second birthday and she was sitting there telling me she expected to die... and not just in the way that y' know, we all expect to, but in the sort of way that she knew exactly when, exactly how. I suppose it was her last attempt to have some control. Oh God this is going to sound so awful but she told me... if this happened, if she was suddenly 'gone' then I had to..." He trailed off, his voice breaking.

"Had to what?" She prompted, sensing he needed to finish the story.

"I had to come back here after it had happened, had to lay a single black orchid on her grave so that whatever happened, she'd never feel alone." He told her, tears rolling down his face as he felt her take his hand.

"Greg, I don't think that she's alone." She replied, pointing to the spot where Saoirse's grave was located.

* * *

><p>In the fast approaching darkness, she could see the tiny flickers of candles which looked like tiny rays of hope against the ever darkening sky and she felt him tighten his grip on her hand tighten as he too saw what she had noticed. There, by the grave of their youngest family member, were the Douglases. All of them. As they advanced on the grave, they saw with astounding clarity that Saoirse was most definitely not alone. Lying atop the smooth stone were three black orchids, laid in a loving arrangement and as symbolic as Greg's was intended to be.<p>

The couple remained silent for a moment as they drew level with the family and in the quiet which had fallen over them all, Mary Douglas reached out to him, linking her arm through his and feeling incredibly grateful when he did not pull away.

"He's gone love. He's gone. The drink finally got him, I couldn't tell you over the phone. Paddy is gone, the poison in our lives is gone - two days and already I know I am freer than I've been in years. I understand now and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She whispered her velveteen voice the comfort he knew he would always crave and finally he understood Hannah's use of the past tense reference to Paddy.

He said nothing, fresh tears replacing any words he might have spoken as he thought about the cruel way of justice. He was gone. But it was too late for Wren and always would be. Instead he shifted his arm so that it embraced her midriff and he brushed a kiss against his mother's forehead.

After accepting this quiet atonement, he stepped forward, his own orchid in hand. He took a moment but decided to lay it on the crest of the polished headstone. "You see Wren, you're not alone. We're all here." He whispered, then the quietness resumed and they all became lost in their thoughts.

* * *

><p><strong>Saturday<strong>

Last night had been tough that was no lie and he had no shame in admitting, now that morning had broken, that without her he wasn't sure he would have gotten any sleep at all. Once again, last night had been an occasion upon which Sahira had proven herself capable of predicting what he needed, even before he could realise those same things. After getting back, she'd spent what had felt like hours kissing him: slowly, thoroughly and consolingly. She had said nothing as she'd undressed and had maintained her silence as she'd helped him out of his clothes, her wordless actions seemingly evidence that he needed that kind of guidance. She had made love to him in the same way, her every movement slow, careful and attentive. She had not spoken, but rather had simply showered him with attention, working both their bodies to exhaustion – upon which point she had collapsed against him and whispered the words "I love you", before she had, he was sure of it, watched him fall into a deliciously dreamless and un-tormented slumber he had been unsure he would have achieved without the warmth of her body next to his, given that his head had been so full of memories.

But he must have, since he had woken this morning feeling more refreshed than he had since they had both started shift work again and he knew he had her to thank for that. She was so in tune with him, giving him silent understanding and support when he didn't know how to ask for it and for that he would always be grateful.

He mulled all this over as he sat in the downstairs bar/ lounge waiting for her to join him. They had approximately forty minutes until Ruth's party and they had been in Dublin for a couple of hours. If she was tired, not simply from her efforts last night but also from the journey, she hadn't complained and so he waited patiently for her to join him before they would drive out to the woods behind his childhood home where Greg and his siblings had enjoyed many long days of adventures. On the table next to him was a plastic carton, something he had taken from the box, which had been home to Wren's orchid, before disposing of it last night. He was nervous, more so than he had been about anything in a long time but not nearly as nervous as he knew he had the potential to become tonight. What if he didn't do it right? What if she thought he was pathetic?

He hardly had time to afford this train of thought anymore consideration before he felt someone lightly touch his shoulder and then he turned towards her. For a moment, he did not speak, instead taking in the way she looked and wondering again how he had ever been lucky enough to call himself the man she was with. She wore a dress in a rich burnt orange shade which suited her skin and illuminated the glint in her eyes. She looked stunning, the way she always did.

"Beautiful." He breathed, not even sure the word had been uttered. But upon noticing the way she cast her eyes downward, he knew his compliment had been vocalised. This was always her reaction when he told her she was beautiful and it endeared him to think that a woman who looked like she did could be in any doubt. He guessed it would take a few more years of his completely genuine compliments before she started believing him. He hoped he could get her to see herself the way he did before that, but if not he had no objections to ensuring that she knew how he felt every single day for however much of their forever they had left.

"Stop." She batted away his compliment with the practised embarrassment of one who did not believe in them.

"I mean it." He assured her leaning forward and brushing a kiss to her lips.

"Hmm well... You don't scrub up too badly yourself." She conceded watching him preen for her as she settled her head on his shoulder – her eye catching the carton on the table.

"What's that?" She asked, pointing in the general direction of the carton.

"This?" He asked, picking up the box and unfastening it. "Just a little something I had Hannah make up for you..." he paused a moment, holding the object in his hands. "But you're already wearing a bangle, you don't want this." He told her, his disappointment less than thinly disguised.

"Greg I love you." She murmured, discarding her bangle quickly "and one of the many reasons I do is because you're so thoughtful. I love it." She told him, offering him her wrist.

"You're sure?"

"I wouldn't say it, if I didn't mean it." She promised ardently.

"Do you understand why I kept pestering you to decide between the two dresses now?" He asked, taking her hand and still feeling the same illicit thrill he had when this action had been forbidden to him and beginning to slide the arrangement onto her delicate wrist.

"I do." She said, staring down at the autumnally themed corsage she now wore – observing the twigs and vines which had been painstakingly twisted into this design, noticing the orange lily which adorned the corsage at its centre point and realising how much thought had gone into every detail. Once again she couldn't help but feel guilty at having underestimated his ability to be an emotional, feeling man with whom she could find completeness, happiness...

"You know what? This is the first corsage I have ever been given and it's beautiful because from you, I know it means everything. It's so much more to me than the cheap bunch of flowers Craig Taylor bought me the night of my year eleven prom. I know this isn't a way to get me to do something for you; it's not some cheap gambit in disguise. I know this comes from your heart." She told him, not failing to notice the mischievous glint in his eyes and knowing somehow that she's set herself up for some ribbing or other.

"Aw come on, you're telling me I spent almost two whole paper rounds on that corsage and you're not even going to let me get to second base?" He teased, his smiling eyes holding some credible teenage charm.

"Oh I think we're way past that don't you?" She asked, leaning in close to him. "So play your cards right and you'll be on for a homerun." She winked.

"Seriously though, I hope you don't think it's too cheesy. It's just that this is the first time you're stepping out with me and we're meeting my family. I wanted to do it properly. It's what my Da would have tod me to do. '_Got yourself a real lady here son, a diamond' _he'd say, '_don't mess it up_.'" He explained adopting the gruff tone of his Da and feeling nostalgic loss for the father he missed every day.

"Well you haven't messed it up as far as I can see and I think he'd have been really proud of you." She assured him. "Ready to go?" She asked after a moment.

"Yeah." He agreed, checking that he had his rental car keys with him.

"Have you got Ruth's present?" She checked, noticing how quickly they had become a 'real couple'- it was in the little things.

"It's in my pocket." He paused for a minute "what did we get her again?" He asked not wanting to be caught out by the sister who would likely be able to discern that he hadn't had a role in the present buying, aside from signing the card 'love Greg'.

She laughed, thinking about how his response was such a 'man's reaction' to gift buying and wondering if Ruth's brother could possibly be the same man who had just presented her with a bespoke corsage. "A gift certificate for that spa retreat she likes remember? She and a friend get to choose a combination of treatments from the list and they get a champagne lunch included." She told him knowing that understanding the details would make his gift seem less like it was chosen by his partner.

"See, I knew there was a reason that I loved you..." He teased.

"Just one?" She asked raising a disapproving eyebrow.

"Oh I'm sure there must be more." He replied, earning himself a playful shove as they exited the hotel and made towards the car.

* * *

><p>The woods looked beautiful. The tree trunks surrounding the clearing in which the party was being held were adorned with fairy lights and every second oak sported a lantern in which a tiny tea light burned. The evening was still, the merest of breezes kicking up the first of the falling leaves and though the sun shone dimly in the dying hours of the day, the guests could feel the first nips of an autumn chill which would soon take hold. Nonetheless, nobody at the party seemed to notice this change in climate since the warmth of the atmosphere was enough to sustain them.<p>

Greg and Sahira had spent time circuiting their way around the party, speaking to relatives and friends of the Douglases after having given Ruth her present. She had of course been thankful and when Greg had gone to get Sahira one of Ruth's 'birthday cocktails', she whispered her personal thanks to the other woman, acknowledging the feminine sway of the gift.

"I'm glad you could come. I appreciate it, we all do. Thank you." She told her, watching the way her brother was received by the family and friends he hadn't seen in so long and noticing how easily he seemed to fit back into the Douglas fold.

"Hey, don't thank me, thank that amazing little brother of yours and the huge debt I owe him – this was the least I could do." She smiled, redirecting her gratitude towards Caleb who caught her eye right at that moment and raised a glass to her in his own silent thanks. "Besides, I thought after last time... you could all use some time to... heal. I know that whatever he might tell you, he needs you all in his life. Losing Saoirse was _so _hard on him."

"It was hard on all of us, but I don't know Greg and Wren... they were inseparable. I think it kills him that he couldn't save her." Ruth trailed off, afraid of ruining a night like this when the tenuous beginnings of reconnection were occurring.

"It does, but it would kill him more if he thought he'd really lost of all you."

"That could never happen. Cay over there wouldn't let it happen for one thing – our little one. I mean could you imagine, us not being part of his huge wedding plan? Shock horror." The older woman laughed and Sahira joined in. "Did you meet Maria?" She asked after a minute.

"Yeah. Greg and I thought she was great. They're great together." She smiled.

Ruth was quiet for a moment as she watched Sahira light up when she spoke about Greg and she thought not for the first time since she had met her that she was perfect for her younger brother.

"You know, I think that's nice."

"What is? Maria's lovely, so easy to like."

"No... I mean yes she is. But I meant the way you think of you and Greg as singular, as one thing. You know he does that too don't you?"

"Well that's how I think of him, we're a couple. I love him and he loves me."

"I think you are exactly what he needed. I know he really loves you."

"Who really loves who?" He asked butting into the conversation at this crucial moment.

"Never you mind." Ruth huffed before excusing herself now that Sahira had more company. She didn't want to monopolise the younger woman when her brother was clearly intending on doing just that – besotted as he was with her.

* * *

><p>"There you go." Greg offered her the drink, which she gratefully accepted.<p>

"For the record, that was the longest 'I'll get you a drink' run I've ever seen."

"Oh God." He said, his tone apologetic. "She didn't grill you did she?" He asked, his eyes seeking forgiveness.

"No. Your sister was perfectly lovely. You have a truly wonderful family." She complimented and she could tell he agreed.

"I am sorry you know, I got your drink right away but then I just kept bumping into old Dublin faces, people I haven't seen in so long and thought I never would again." He apologised.

"Greg, it's fine. It's just a drink. We're here to have fun; you're here to catch up with your family, your friends." She assured him, spotting Caleb over her shoulder.

"Speaking of which..." His younger brother intersected warmly, "Mum wants a word." He told him.

"Really? How old_ are_ we?" He replied moodily.

"Hey, don't look at me." Caleb held his hands up to signify surrender "she's the boss. Go on, go. I'll look after Sahira."

"What about Maria?" Greg tried to argue.

"Rhia's fine, she's with Ruth." Caleb told him.

"Don't keep putting it off – go and talk to your mother, you both need it." She instructed. "I'm fine. I'm going to drag your lovely brother out for a dance." She told him following through on her action.

* * *

><p>Out on the dance floor – or more precisely the bamboo slated sheet that had been placed on the grass, Caleb and Sahira danced playfully, he span her around and she twirled him through her arms. They laughed and they played and she realised that this was the way it was supposed to be with family – fun, light hearted and free feeling, nothing like she had felt around the Razas who were so dysfunctional she was surprised that Rafi had turned out respectably at all.<p>

"Hey, I wanted to thank you for coming through on your promise." He told her gratefully.

"Well I did say I'd try and besides I wanted to thank _you_ for helping to gain my custody of the boys. This was the least I could do and I hope you realise, if Greg didn't want to be here, he wouldn't be. It wouldn't have mattered what I had said to him. But that's a good thing. It means he wants to try in this situation and that's what counts."

"Oh that I know. Don't tell him this but when I was a boy, I thought he was a superhero – always protecting us. Hey, who am I kidding? I'm thirty next year and I still think he's superman. If you tell him, I'll know it was you." He warned her playfully.

"I won't tell, I promise." She replied earnestly, thinking about how much this family loved each other and how strong that love must be. She only hoped that her little family – Greg, the boys and her could have something even half that good.

* * *

><p>On the edges of the party, Greg observed the festivities, but he was not alone. After having a conversation with his mother which was almost twenty years coming and shedding more than a few tears, they had both fallen into contented silence and had taken to watching the party. He was all too aware of the presence of his companion. He couldn't help but be as she stood there, holding his hand. It was something she hadn't done since he was small, partly because boys naturally grew further apart from their mothers much faster than girls, as had been proven by both Ruth and Wren, but also because even in his early childhood after his Da had passed, he had blamed his mother for all that was wrong in their lives – she wasn't strong enough – she had let Paddy do the things he had done – she had <em>known – <em>that had been the worst part for him and so severing that sort of contact, however cruel it may have been, had seemed appropriate.

Now though, it was a different story. The years had passed and so had the evil in their lives and they stood changed, grief stricken and weathered but ultimately alive and a family for whatever that was worth – and Greg knew that was a lot. Especially now, especially after losing Wren. Somehow, even though she was gone she had managed to bring them together, the way she always had and he would always be thankful to her for that. So he stood there, letting his mother hold his hand because in a selfless gesture, he sensed it was what she needed and that was Ok. It felt strange to feel the whorls and dips of her ageing knuckles but the second the contact had been initiated, something had sparked and though it was a distant memory, he could still take comfort from the powdery softness of her hands and that felt good after all these years.

As if by instinct, he turned his attention to the centre of the space, seeking her out by a force of something stronger than magnetism. There she was, laughing, playing, having fun with his brother and she moved with such an easy attitude of relaxation that he knew he had done the right thing in continuing to try to be with her. There was truly no way on Earth he could ever imagine being without her now. There was no one like her.

"She's beautiful." His mother commented.

"Yes she is."

"Inside and out, I can sense it." She told him and though he might have asked _how_ after so many years of marriage to Paddy, but he knew the instant she said it, this was the reason why. The evil she had suffered made her strive to see the good in people; it was why Wren was so inherently good and so intuitively knowing. If she'd been here, she would have said precisely the same thing.

"She is, she's so _good _and kind and loving and I am definitely under her spell."

" Maybe there's no spell, maybe she's just good for you."

"She is." He could only agree with everything his mother said.

"Gregory, do you know what your Da would say if he was here, right now?" She asked.

"He'd say, _'what are you still doing over here talking to your mother? Looking after her is my job so go over there, grab your girl and don't lose her'_."

"Almost word for word, I can hear him in you. I see him in you. So you know what you have to do don't you?" She pushed.

"I do, I have known almost since I met her. But what if I mess it up – get it all wrong? I don't want to hurt her, I can't. I promised her when we got together that the one thing I would never do is hurt her."

"Greg, you can't know the future, not for sure. You can't say you'll never do anything to hurt her – That's just not possible. But you have too good of a heart to ever do something intentional to hurt her. You won't get this wrong if you _know_ it's right. _Is_ it right? Does it feel that way _in here_?" She pushed the palms of her hands against his heart.

"Yes." He said not a single second's deliberation necessary.

"Then in the words of your father as you so aptly quoted, what're doing still standing here talking to me?" She asked, laughing as he half stumbled, half ran towards his girl.

* * *

><p>He made his way across the small space and felt not for the first time since he had been with her, the beating of butterfly wings against his stomach. He supposed it was because he had invested more of himself, his entire heart to be more precise and although she had given him no reason to assume that his investment wasn't entirely repaid by her, in those very early days, she had always talked of risks. This was perhaps the biggest risk he could be involved in with her and the thought of what would happen if the risk didn't pay off hardly bore thought.<p>

He approached the dancing pair and tapped Caleb on the shoulder. "Excuse me sir, but does your fiancé know you're here dancing with other women?" He asked playfully.

Caleb broke apart from Sahira, a little embarrassed as he turned towards the voice, his shoulders set defensively.

"I'm sorry..." He started, but upon seeing his brother he stopped abruptly saying instead "oh it's you." He seemed a little annoyed.

"Oh you should have seen your face!" Greg almost howled with laughter.

"Yes, yes you're very funny." Caleb replied sardonically, "good chat with Mum?" He asked bringing the conversation back around full circle.

"Yeah, very good actually." He told him, clapping his hand on his shoulder in silent signal. "Thanks little one, I mean that." He added earnestly as he watched Caleb locate Maria and head in her direction.

Finally, after a night of reminiscences with his family and friends he was able to spend some time with the woman he loved, he could initiate phase two of this weekend – the romantic part. For a few moments they stood apart, listening to the dying bars of the pop song she had been spinning around the dance floor with Caleb to. In the bluish- black darkness of the night, he was reminded once again of how beautiful she was and how stunning she looked right now in that beautiful dress, her hair falling about her shoulders in slightly bouncing waves which he knew had taken her longer to create than she would ever admit.

"Hey." She murmured, taking a step closer to him as the song changed, as somewhat ironically, did the genre of the music. Neither of them recognised the song but something in the melody seemed to draw them together and though he had never been much of a dancer, instinct told him where to place his hands and his feet just moved to the rhythm.

"Hey you, I'm sorry it took me so long to get back to you." He apologised again.

"Greg, what did I say? It's already forgiven." She smiled, settling her head upon his shoulder. "It's been a lovely night." She added absented mindedly as they swayed.

"I talked to Mum about a lot of things." He told her, the relief clear in his voice.

"Are things better, or at least on the mend?" She asked, her voice demonstrating her deep concern.

"I think so. I mean, I'm under no illusions that it could be sometime before things are even what you would call improved. But talking to her helped me sort out a few other things..." He left off taking a breath to steady his nerves.

"Mm hmm, like what?" She mumbled, utter contentment the only thing she could contemplate right now.

"Like you and me and how much I want my life to be so different from anything my family have been through. I want you to always know how much I love you and the boys and the little family you've given me. I want everyone to know that you're with me and I'm with you. I have to do this..." He started but she raised a finger to his lips for a moment.

"What are you saying Greg?" She asked, arching her back away from him ever so slightly so she could look into his eyes.

"Look, you might think this is crazy, I'm not even sure that I don't yet, but I love you Sahira and these past three months have really been the best of my life. I want you to know that what I said back then was something that I meant. I am deadly serious about becoming your husband and being everything you need me to be and everything that you want. So, you may think this is too soon, or too rash or maybe even a little bit stupid, but I'm asking you now because if I don't know now I'll go mad..." He paused, fumbling in his jacket pocket but finding that his hands shook too much to reach their target.

She said nothing as she slid her right hand down from its position his cheek and slipped it into the deep pocket, bypassing his fingers and brushing against the pointed edge of a small box before pulling it out.

"What is _this_?" She asked breathily even though she knew the answer to that question as the tiny, slightly worn black box rested on her flattened on her palm.

"_This_... is the fulfilment of my promise. My serious commitment to you and to us. So..." He stopped, lowering himself onto one knee, "in spite of everything, despite all the risks, I'm asking you Sahira Shah to be there every day in my future as my wife, marry me?" He asked, the emotion clear in his voice as he opened the little box and revealed a vintage white gold, emerald ring so much more perfect than the Tiffany ring she had been presented with in a situation so far removed from this utterly romantic moment, not only because this ring took into consideration everything he knew about her and played on a little joke they had shared many times concerning her ability to wear green in public, but also because this moment was so heartfelt and hadn't come off the back of a steamy encounter as it had done with Rafi.

She was crying almost immediately, overwhelmed by the rush of love she felt for him and by the love, hope and even desperation she could feel emanating from him as he knelt there holding the ring out to her.

"Greg it's beautiful. I love you." She smiled and she could tell through her misty eyes that she had confused him more with this answer than she had ever planned to.

She got down on her knees then, her hands resting on his face. "If you don't know by now then I clearly haven't loved you enough. I have been waiting for you to propose every day since you first mentioned it in the heat of that moment. So of course, yes I'll marry you." She told him, brushing her tears away and giving him a watery smile.

"Did you just say yes?" He asked in genuine disbelief.

"Yes." She punctuated her affirmation with a kiss. "Yes." She repeated the action. "Yes."

He leaned back then, taking the ring out with shaking hands "Do you like it? I can change if it if you'd prefer something more conventional."

"This is perfect, I promise I love it almost as much as I love you." She told him offering him her finger and watching the ring slide onto the fourth finger of her left hand.

"I love you." He murmured holding her hand.

"I love you too." She replied, meaning it more than anything in that moment. "I do have one question though." She added.

"Oh?"

"I _can _wear this in public, can't I?" She asked with a laugh as he helped her up and his arms slid around her waist.

"I'd be offended if you didn't." He told her, though his tone was light.

"I understand perfectly Mr Douglas." She replied, leaning in and kissing him until she felt as if she had no breath left in her body...

* * *

><p><strong>Well there it is. A little long perhaps but I hope that you enjoyed it. I wanted explore several facets in this chapter – from Greg's lasting grief over Saoirse all the way through to some substantial development in Greg and Sahira's relationship – I think that the proposal counts as substantial. <strong>

**All I'll say now is remember what I said about rocky roads to HEA because if you thought the custody case was as dramatic as it got, hold onto your hats. **

**Reviews and tweets ( sassybritchelle) are always welcome and keep me motivated - I'll write faster for the next chapter, promise. **

**I hope I caught all the edits if not, please forgive me. **

**Thank you as always for reading it means so much more to me than you could ever know. **

**Love always, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	15. Touch Me

**Hey lovely people, **

**Thank you once again for the amazing support you gave to the previous chapter, it was a big one and I appreciate all of you taking the time to read it and to send me some love for it. Hello, welcome and thank you to my two guest reviewers – it means a lot to me that you would leave such lovely comments for little old me. **

**This one is for Emma, the author of **_**Fifty Shades of Greg **_**which is a FANTASTIC Grahira fic you should all check out and send some love and is also coincidentally my latest twitter hash-tag craze, let's trend it Holby ladies. Now the reason for this little dedication is that wonderful Emma noticed my intention (yeah right, we both know I was being a sieve-head) mistake and was kind to point it out to me. If you didn't notice it, I won't divulge it now but I wanted to thank her for saving my butt! Oh and if you spot the 'in-joke I put in for you, following our conversation, then I may allow you to suggest a prompt for a Grahira one shot of your choice! ;-) Also to Emma, I know this might not be wholly as 'realistic' as we discussed but we'll see.**

**The title of this chapter is taken from the song of the same name 'Touch Me' by Katharine Mcphee, credit where credit is due please. Incidentally, I should say, an M rating applies here. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics.**

* * *

><p>"I..." She started but then went quiet as he shut the door behind them and waited, as if on bated breath for her to finish the sentence. Her face caught the soft, slightly eerie glow of the moonlight and he noticed she wore a slightly perplexed expression, owing perhaps to the fact that she couldn't seem to find the words she required.<p>

He stood observing her with increasing fascination as he watched her flop down onto the large king size bed and assume a pose which gave the attitude of the_ Vitruvian Man, _such were the positions of her limbs – each equidistant to the other. Fascination turned to awe as for a moment, he contemplated whether she might actually begin to make 'bed-linen-angels' on the satin bedspread. For a few seconds it seemed she shared this contemplation, but then she lifted her left hand towards the beam of moonlight, elongating her fingers out like a cat, stretching in the warmth and glow of the moonbeam as she admired, not for the first time since he had given it to her, the ring which symbolised their new engagement.

"I..." She started again, seemingly having gathered together her faculties enough to form a thought now "I, have had too much to drink." She hummed in a tone which suggested an alcohol induced contentment he thought suited her.

He could not stifle the giggle which caught in his throat as he replied, liking this new relaxed version of her, enjoying the rarity, the treat of seeing her like this. "Yes, I think you may have." He told her, trying to sound stern, but failing on a large scale.

It was not hard to justify how she had come to be in this state when he thought back upon how the evening had progressed after his proposal. Immediately after it, they had consumed the flutes of champagne he had perhaps over-presumptively assumed they would require after his question and hers had been drained in seconds. Apparently, the adrenaline, the euphoric happiness, which seemed to radiate from her had taken over her and for a short time Miss Shah: controlled registrar had left the building, leaving only the in-love and loved Sahira to celebrate the new future he knew she would already be envisioning.

He hadn't minded, had joined her on her joy-ride even. What he had not expected was the reaction of his family and friends who had accosted both he and his bride-to-be the moment they had broken apart from their 'seal-the-deal' kiss – almost as if they sensed that something big had happened, something worth fussing about; something worth plying the couple with endless drinks for. If there was one thing he should not have forgotten, one piece of information he should have retained after he left here, it was that the Irish and particularly the Douglases, knew how to celebrate and celebrate they had.

In the buzz of the aftermath of his proposal when there had been laughter and tears of happiness, hugs and kisses, he had been vaguely aware that the remainder of Ruth's birthday punch had been drained and it had not been long before the bar service for the party was being requested to provide shots; of anything, of everything. He had watched, not unconcernedly as Sahira had proven herself to be more than capable of keeping up with his family members in the drinking stakes and this had surprised him. On the occasions when they had been out: either with colleagues or just as a couple, she always practised conservatism when it came to the consumption of alcohol, not least because of her responsibilities: first as a mother and as a surgeon. Still, he had remained silent, keeping a watchful eye on the woman he loved, not wanting to be a kill-joy but also wanting her to remember the proposal and its acceptance come morning. She had needed to let her hair down and that was precisely what she had been able to do under the protection of his watchful gaze.

He wasn't going to pretend that he had been a Saint tonight. He had worked his way through a fair number of Guinness' it was true and when it had come time to leave the party, they had both stumbled into a taxi (despite the rental car, which he surmised he would collect tomorrow when the alcohol was out of his blood stream) giggling all the way. Now she seemed to have sobered up some, but her eyes were still a little glazed, rheumy with happiness and drink as she regarded him with something of a pout.

"It's all your fault you know." She told him pointedly, her tongue just able to wrap itself around the words.

"Oh and tell me Nancy Drew, how'd you work that one out?" He asked, giggling at his own bad reference.

"_Your_ proposal, _your_ fault." She pouted - an expression which only deepened as he continued to laugh at her. "Besides, it's just you. You make me nervous. When I'm around you I don't know how to think straight, ergo I need to drink more. Dutch courage."

"_Ergo_? Big word for someone in your state isn't it?" He asked, his eyebrow raising slightly as he tried to work out if he was impressed.

"Or maybe..." She murmured flexing her fingers before twisting them and beckoning him to come closer, "I'm not as drunk as you think I am..." She grinned, a small knowing grin as he moved towards her, divesting himself of his shoes on the way.

"Interesting that. You know what else you're not?" He asked, pausing a moment as he settled his legs on either side of her body.

"Tell me." She sighed breathily, resisting the urge to kiss him for a moment longer.

"Well, Miss Shah I think we can safely assume you're not a natural born curly top." He told her, taking in the dishevelled, falling out curls she now sported.

"Who says?" She asked accusingly, her hand moving defensively into her hair.

"Me and my super-sleuth abilities." He replied pushing her hair away from her face.

"Do you know, it took me almost an hour to do these curls and now you're criticising them? Don't you like them?" She asked hurt ebbing at her tone, though whether it was mock, he could not tell.

"I love them in fact you are always beautiful to me. As long as I get to do this..." He paused, running his hands through her thick, beautifully silky hair, "I'm happy."

"Humph." It sounded like a noise, he'd heard the boys make when they were disgruntled by an instruction their mother had given them and he laughed again.

"Humph?" He asked, mimicking her.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you go soft when you've had too much to drink?" She asked forgiveness already in her voice.

"Really? That's interesting. Doesn't _feel _like it to me." He replied pressing himself closer to her and catching her resultant gasp with his lips.

* * *

><p>He thrust his tongue between her teeth somewhat savagely, a wildly unrecognisable part of himself emerging by her provocation as he plundered the cavernous walls of her mouth demonstrating in more ways than one, the point he had been trying to make.<p>

"Greg..." She muttered, pulling back. Out of breath, heart racing, in need.

"Mmhmm?" He mumbled back as she pressed kiss after kiss to his slightly rough jaw line.

"I am so..." she paused, searching for the words before finding them and a new sense of confidence as a result of the intoxication coursing through her veins at that moment, "turned on." She settled on after a moment.

He said nothing for a moment, instead choosing to respond with hot, open mouthed kisses which he pressed to her lips and cheeks in quick succession as his breathing became erratic and his focus skewed.

"What's the matter?" She asked softly, worried that she had upset him. "Don't you believe me?" She continued her voice almost maternal in nature.

He drew back a little then, alarm bells ringing in his head as he wondered what could have possibly lead to this bold new woman's emergence as she lay beneath him, her body almost surging against his as the air around and between them throbbed with anticipation and tension.

"Here then..." she coaxed, grabbing his hand in hers and guiding it lower, lower still until it found its way beneath the hem of the fiery silk she wore. "_Touch me_." She almost begged, her body becoming almost lotus like as she lifted away from the bed towards him, desperate to be closer to those fingers.

Once they had been encouraged beneath the garment, his fingers seemed to work of their own volition, ghosting across and tracing the velveteen silk of her legs. The pads of his fingers registered the change in temperature as he drew higher, nearer, even if his befuddled, lust filled and utterly confused mind could not, did not. He knew what she wanted, knew it was something he could... _had _given her, once - some months ago. She wanted to be taunted, she longed to be teased, she was practically begging to be the victim of a siege on her body, executed by the very extremities of his skilled hands but... he hadn't... _they_ hadn't done it since that first time when her body had slowly but surely let him be the key to its undoing, to_ her_ undoing and he had very clear reasons for abstaining.

He didn't want her to feel that he treated her as an object for the gratification of his own carnal desires, he never wanted her to feel like she was just being used for her body and so, since that day he had refrained from pleasuring her in this way - from bringing her to satisfaction by these means, choosing instead to make love to _her_ to hold and image of the woman he loved in his mind as he moved within her and she responded to him. He never thought of her in the basest sense, never reduced to an object and never associated her with the fulfilment of his own selfish desires. But wait... Hadn't he promised that he would do this for her? Hadn't he promised to offer her pleasure like she had never known? Hadn't he promised that she would never be in need, never want for anything again? Weren't those exactly the things she would be in if he denied her this? Wasn't it completely right to be here with her, on the romantic portion of their weekend away, giving her what she needed, wasn't that his job as her lover, her _fiancé_? Therefore, wasn't it completely, undeniably right that the fingers on his left hand were already moving to push her underwear aside whilst his right hand smoothed slow concentric circles upon her heated thigh?

His passion drove him onwards with this conclusion, his fingers throbbing to act as was their impulse, but then he looked down at her, her large brown eyes sparkling with expectation and he simply could not go through with the thing that felt most natural. This once, he didn't feel that he could give her the one thing that she wanted without degrading everything he had worked so hard to show her he could be: unselfish, controlled and loving.

She released a tense groan as she realised that contrary to the impulses he had momentarily appeared to be driven by, he had hesitated, no... more than that, he had stopped altogether. "Greg..." She moaned in frustration and he couldn't help but hear the pain she was in. "Please... Please..."

"I _want_ to. Sahira, God knows I want to... But I..."

"You love me." She cut across him with these three words, a blunt acknowledgement of his feelings for her. "Don't you?" She allowed there to be a note of doubt, just a single one in her voice so that she could push him, manipulate him.

"You know I do, more than anything. Completely." He told her firmly "but..."

" – - and tomorrow? You'll still love me? Whatever happens? Whatever we do?" She asked, again with that notorious ebbing of doubt, designed entirely to provoke the right response from him, the one that would come without hesitation.

"Yes."

"So then, couldn't we just for tonight, indulge the fantasy?" She asked.

"The fantasy? Am I not_ fan-tastic _enough for you? Am _I _not the fantasy, is this not what you want? " He asked, a little confused. He'd always been the kind of guy who loved them and left them, which was part of the problem when his relationship with Sahira had changed and was the reason why she was so unsure about whether she could risk being with him, but since he'd been with her, he _only_ wanted to be with her, to make her happy, to make her feel loved and suddenly she was telling him this was wrong? Would women and what they wanted always elude him? Had he simply mistaken every rom-com he'd ever had the misfortune to watch?

She stared up at him with playful eyes, as if determining whether his question was entirely serious. When she realised that it most certainly was, she knew she had to offer him an answer. "No." She deadpanned, letting the word settle for a moment in order to gauge his reaction. Looking at him now, she could tell it certainly hadn't been the response he'd been banking on. "Greg, you're not the fantasy, well you are... it's difficult to explain. What you are to me is so much more than the fantasy – you're the reality I get to come home to, the man who loves me, the man who makes love to me, the man who makes me happier than I knew I could be. Do you know how lucky that makes me – how many women wish they got to come home to you?" She asked explaining exactly what she meant with all her cryptic fantasy versus reality stuff. "But just for one night, I wondered what it would be like to know that we loved each other enough to do anything, go anywhere we wanted. Does that sound ridiculous? Is it ludicrous to think that I might have fantasies about you? Don't you have them about me?" She asked, a little worried, he could tell. Of course, it wasn't normal for lovers to approach each other completely platonically, there had to be some desire there, some element of fantasy and Greg could hardly deny that he had thought about her, the things he would do to her on numerous occasions. Particularly in the time before they had been together and the time of the court case, when they had abstained from the physical relationship they had craved, but now? Of course he thought of her, fantasised about her – usually at the most inappropriate of times. Often he would be consumed by visions of her in a slip of sheer black lace or wearing that emerald negligee they both knew still lay in the bottom drawer of the dresser and now, he knew that he would think of her in multiple positions, in multiple locations wearing nothing but her ring and a smile.

* * *

><p>His breathing seemed to constrict in his chest and she breathed a notable sigh of relief. "I think you just answered my question." She smiled, her eyes sparkling.<p>

"So... Come on Miss Shah, tell me... what does this fantasy involve? I'll bet you're a 'tie him up and strip him down' kind of girl right?" He asked, his interest piqued and his tone a little nervous as he thought of the tie he was wearing and the uses she could put it to if she was that way inclined...

"If that's what you bet Mr Douglas, then you're playing a losing game. I'm not nor have I ever been into, what do they call it? 'O_ld school bondage'." _He almost balked at the words as they came out of her mouth, never having imagined her to even know about such things – s straight laced had she always seemed. In the heavy, silent air, she decided to continue, an idea having suddenly begun to flower in her mind. "But..." she paused dragging her fingers down his chest, "now that you mention it, the 'strip him down' part doesn't sound so bad..." She murmured.

"Wait..." He replied, pausing as what she was telling him sunk in. "A strip show? That's what you want? Like that movie you dragged me out to see – '_Magic Mike'?" _He seemed mildly horrified by this eventuality as he thought back to the night he had sat through the movie, trying to figure out where he was supposed to look.

"Mm hmm, only I don't want 'Magic Mike', I was thinking more like 'Magic Greg'." She told him with a smile which told of her conviction that he would do this for her.

"That's the fantasy? Well then Miss Shah, why didn't you just say so?" He asked, getting to his feet and going for the light switch, making sure to toe off his socks on the way.

"You see..." He continued, his voice, thick and throaty "if there's one thing I know how to do, it's put on a show..." He told her, his hand sliding down his neck to the first button on his shirt. "Question is, are you ready for it?"

* * *

><p>He had gotten to the third button on his shirt and already, he could tell she was becoming restless. The thing was, she had requested a show but what she had failed to do was specify the speed at which she would like him to carry it out. That was fine by him, he had all the time in the world, he just wasn't sure that the same could be said for the lovely Miss Shah.<p>

They hadn't said anything, in fact, there hadn't even been a single sound since he had agreed to do this for her, but the air seemed to hum with emotion and this in itself was immensely loud. He kept eye contact with her at all times, regarding her from his position at the foot of the bed and noticing how enticing her current position, which involved her being propped on her elbows, was. He could very well have abandoned this whole thing and taken her right now, but he stuck at it with a diligence that surprised him. He had two more buttons left and he figured, judging by the speed at which he had taken things thus far he could get at least a minute's worth more teasing out of the shirt. A minute's worth more torture, might more accurately describe it in fact...

Soon, the shirt was at his elbows and just before he began to shirk it, he did some kind of shimmy thing which looked wholly unnatural and awkward, he could tell, even though he was not in the audience of this little show. The unexpected movement threw him off balance and he stumbled a little.

"See..." he muttered, laughter in his tone, "this is why there's music. It makes my ridiculous dances moves seem at least a little bit sexy. Right now I bet you're not even a little hot and bothered are you?" He asked disappointedly.

"I wouldn't bank on it. From where I'm sitting, you're looking pretty sexy. You've increased your gym sessions haven't you?" She asked, her tongue peeping out from between her teeth as she moistened her lips and stared unashamedly at his defined abs.

"Maybe I have. See, there's this woman I like... well actually I love her and... She's very _demanding _in the bedroom. I hear she requests all kinds of crazy shows. So y'know, gotta keep up with demand." He winked whilst trying to shrug nonchalantly. This was less successful than he would have hoped since he knew that when he worked his shoulders like that the muscles in his entire torso flexed and he became instantly aroused by the noise see made upon having made this same observation.

"Hmm well I'd say, if this woman knew what was good for her, she'd be pretty pleased – proud even to call you her man..." She almost purred, watching him with a transfixed stare as he whipped his belt from its loops in much the same way as he'd seen the men in the movie do and threw the leather strap towards her.

She caught it and held onto it slightly menacingly. "Y'know, you'd think she'd offer me some thanks but no... All I get is some spiel about 'fantasy this and fantasy that'. It's tough work, being someone's man candy." He sighed heavily, wiping at some imaginary perspiration on his brow as he did so, just to illustrate his point.

She laughed a wickedly sexy laugh then before replying. "You poor, poor man... sounds like you could use some T.L.C." She sympathised, wrapping the ends of the belt in her hands and pulling it taut. "But you know. It could be worse... If this woman had any sense at all, she's have you restrained right now. She wouldn't want you running around, looking so devastatingly good not having enjoyed you to the fullest." She grinned as she jerked the belt threateningly.

He drew in a breath, not liking the idea of being restrained and unable to touch her at all, no matter how much pleasure it would bring her. The worry must have shown on his brow because she giggled then, a little of the shy Sahira he knew creeping back in. "Fortunately for you, I'm enjoying the show far too much to stop you now." She told him suggestively, her eyes flicking from his face and drifting down – lower, lower still until they settled on the place just above the button of his jeans where a light dusting of hair lead her eyes downwards, taunting her until the last.

"Well, that is good to know." He murmured throatily. Following through on his suggested action and unfastening the button before lowering the zip.

He inched the dark fabric down slowly, listening to the erratic speed of her breathing and smiling to himself. He hadn't been sure about this at first, not at all but now he knew for certain that it didn't hurt to give into desire, every once in a while. Seeing her like this, completely uninhibited and relaxed was definitely worth the minor embarrassment he might have felt personally. As his jeans pooled at his feet and he stepped out of them, he saw her gaze darken and then he realised, it wasn't embarrassment he felt now, it was lust – pure and dark – the kind of feeling he'd had when his goal had been _'getting into her knickers'_ – as Jac had so crassly put it. Only this time, he knew it was a dead cert and that only seemed to intensify his desire. He wanted to show her that he could be the spontaneous lover she craved tonight, more than anything he wanted to please her.

When he was finally down to his Calvin Klein's, he heard the rapidity of her breathing, the haggard inhalation and exhalation as she waited and longed for him to be done. He knew she appreciated his body, in fact that was probably an understatement. He knew his body made her uncomfortable to the nth degree and he also knew that this was because he had a confidence that she could not fathom and certainly did not mirror. He knew that he looked good, he knew that she thought he looked good and in the months that they had been together, he had tried every which way he could think of to get her to realise that the feelings he had about himself were things that she could feel about herself too. His success in this endeavour had been limited to say the least and he had accepted the fact that she would always be a little insecure with a kind of crestfallen sense of failure... But tonight? Something had changed. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was their new engagement, but for the first time since they had been together she had not been nervous, she had been demanding. 'Demanding' was progress and progress deserved a reward, although, not_ too_ quickly.

He turned away from her then, noticing how this action caused her to let out a frustrated groan, but the truth was, he didn't want her to see exactly what his drifting train had thought had done to his body. He didn't want to rush this. As much as was possible he wanted this to last, although even as he thought it – he wondered if this was a futile desire. He felt her eyes boring into his back and he wondered if when he checked come morning, there would be a hole right through his upper torso. He slid his hand downwards, gripping the waistband of his boxer and lowering one side so that the top of his left buttock was just visible. He made to continue on this tract but suddenly stopped, looking back at her from over his shoulder, completely stopping... Effectively ending the show.

She sat up then, sounding surprisingly more sober than he had thought she was a few minutes ago. Her face was flushed with something which resembled rage, although how serious this emotion was, he couldn't say. "Why are you stopping?" She asked, her tone pointed and disgruntled.

"Well, Miss Shah I think I just thought of something you'd like even more than a strip show." He told her, not waiting for a response before he exited towards the en-suite.

* * *

><p>She had flopped back on the bed, not sure what he was planning but finding her interest piqued when she heard the shower turn on. She sat up, feeling her frustration fade, only to be replaced with a heightened sense of excitement. She got up slowly and made her way towards the bathroom, the door of which was slightly ajar. As she approached she could not fail to hark back to that moment a number of months ago when she had boldly entered the men's locker room in pursuit of him and suddenly it all made sense. He was letting her know that he knew exactly what her feelings had been that day, making her aware that he had known exactly where her eyes had been too...<p>

She crossed the room with a stealthy silence which she managed to impress herself with and reached for the shower curtain, pulling it back savagely, her greatest goal – being with him, gaining satisfaction – knowing no bounds – not even respecting his privacy...

* * *

><p>The curtain whipped around the curtain rod quickly, although he had to say he was surprised and impressed by the amount of time she had managed to hold out on coming in here and discovering what he was up to. As they came face to face, he didn't bother to express the mock shock he knew he could have so easily pulled off instead, he stood there regarding her casually, his arms folded, his right leg bent and resting against the wall as he went for an attitude of nonchalant boredom.<p>

"I wondered how long it would take you once you heard the water." He told her, a small smile already pulling at his handsome face. "I have to say, I'm impressed. It took you half as long last time." His eyes sparkled as hers flashed with the recognition he had been aiming for.

God, did she look sexy right now – standing there not even a foot away, her chest heaving and her expression slightly distorted by the water which cascaded in front of his face, splashing against his body and adding the kind of highlights to his body only water could.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean." She told him, but even she was unconvinced by this.

"Oh come on. Don't tell me this isn't the fantasy you really wanted to play out. Don't tell me that you didn't lose your breath, just for a minute when you realised we were alone in that room. Don't tell me that just for a minute you didn't think about what that meant, that you didn't notice my nakedness and think to yourself – 'I could have him, right here, right now – no one would have to know'. Don't tell me that you didn't notice the way the water ran from my hair all the way down my body or that you didn't wonder what it would be like to run your hand down my glistening skin all the way down..." He traced his fingers down his own body, relishing the fact that her gaze never left the path of his fingers, "and don't for one second try to tell me that on that day you weren't looking in a distinctly southern direction." He chided, his fingers halting just south of his navel, waiting for her to react.

"I _don't _know what you mean." She insisted even as she stepped towards him on shaky legs.

"Oh really?" His eyebrow quirked upwards in disbelief as she stood on the edge of the shower unit, regarding him with slightly hooded eyes.

"Really. That day all I was thinking was how angry I was that you were putting on me again. Jac had already given me enough to do..." She tried to justify, perhaps futilely.

"That's not how I remember it at all. I remember the longing in your body, the tension in your voice, the pain in your eyes and please, do me the favour of never mentioning Jac when I'm trying to be your fantasy again." He told her playfully.

"You..." She muttered, "are remembering this all wrong. I was frustrated yes but at your lack of professional attention to duty – not for the reason you think." She told him resolutely.

"Ok fine, don't admit it. It doesn't matter to me, but I'll bet that you're frustrated for exactly the reason I think right now aren't you?" He asked, teasing her, provoking her.

"As a matter of fact, I am." She told him, stepping up onto the raised lip of the shower unit.

"Wait a minute." He told her, stepping away from the wall and back into the water, "what do you think you're doing?" He asked darkly.

"Setting you straight Mr Douglas." She replied.

"Not like that you're not." He told her flatly and she shot him a confused expression.

"You don't want me to join you?"

"Oh I do. I just don't want to share you with Isabel Marant." He told her and she looked down at the long sleeved rust dress she wore.

"It doesn't matter." She told him, her voice strained with pent up lust as she took a further step into the shower, he foot touching the slick floor but he held up his hand to stop her.

"I am not being held responsible for the ruination of a £350 dress, I don't care what you say... So... take it off." He told her, his voice stern.

"Greg..."

"No. The quicker you do it, the quicker you can join me." He told her, holding firm.

"Fine." She threw up her hands in defeat before reaching behind herself and unfastening the zip. She was careful not to let it drop to the floor catching it as it hit her knees and shaking it out before hanging it over the towel rack. "There." She mumbled impatiently stepping back up to the shower unit and getting in, not even bothering to divest herself of the lace-trimmed coral lingerie she wore.

* * *

><p>As she reached for him, she heard him murmur some utterance of approval but she did not hear it, not because lust had clouded her mind to such an extent that her hearing was impaired, but rather because the second she had reached for that truly glistening, glorious flesh, she recoiled.<p>

"Bloody Hell! What're you trying to do? Kill me? It's freezing!" She complained as she felt the cascade of cold water run icily over her body.

"The cold water makes my muscles tense. You'd like me to be tense as opposed to relaxed and comfortable wouldn't you?" He asked playfully as gingerly, she ran her middle finger down his chest in much the same way she _had_ indeed imagined doing _that_ day. He had a point, his muscles did seem to be flexing in a rather appealing manner so she found herself nodding. "Good. So come here would you?" He asked gruffly.

She tried to, honestly she did but she simply couldn't handle the icy water which ran all over her body making goosebumps appear on her flesh in an unattractive manner and her breath was already being stolen by the cold. "Sod this." She muttered reaching out and hitting the temperature gauge up a notch, gratified by the warm water which greeted her pained skin.

* * *

><p>She barely had time to think before he had grabbed her, pulling her in close and possessing her mouth most savagely. His hands raked through her hair pulling out any remnants of the curls she had painstakingly created earlier that evening. As his tongue plundered her mouth and she began to claw at his back, scarping her nails along the muscles as they contorted, he became only too aware of the firmness of her body against his, the way her own abdomen taunted as if instinctively as she tried to adjust to the water, the pebbling of her nipples as they rested against his hard chest and something inside of him snapped.<p>

He released her mouth as her hand snaked into his hair, ignoring her groan of dissatisfaction as he moved his head lower, his left hand pulling at her bra until he had coaxed her left breast from its sodden confine and he worship the perfect skin there. He did not let up, even as the straps, which still sat on her shoulders began to restrict his access, instead tugging and pulling the fabric until he heard it rip. For a moment, he paused just as his instincts told him to turn his attention to her right breast, shocked at himself for having been so reckless, after only seconds however, he surmised he would simply replace the underwear – it would be an excuse for them to go lingerie shopping together, an opportunity he would not squander.

He fell in love with every gasp, worshipped every moan and savoured every utterance of his name as he continued his attentions. Hearing her, experiencing her, loving her like this was something he would never take for granted and it was the thought that at any moment, their love could be torn from them that motivated him to appreciate every second. As she arched and bowed towards him, he felt the last reserves of his control deserting him and so, slid his hand between their sandwiched bodies, reaching for her waterlogged knickers. The task of removing them whilst trailing kisses from the space beneath her breasts to the curve of her navel was made more difficult by the fact that they were practically plastered to her body as a result of the water but somehow he managed it, using his hand to reach between her legs and roughly part her thighs.

She gasped at this unexpected roughness, but she did not complain or protest, wanting this to be as much about his fulfilment as hers. She was completely caught off guard however, when she felt her legs being manipulated, followed shortly by the darting of his tongue inside of her. She didn't know if she could remain standing, wasn't sure that her legs would support her but it did not take long for him to assuage her doubts. Having teased and coaxed her almost to the point of ecstasy, he had withdrawn, hoisting her upwards and wrapping her legs about his waist, his hardened, throbbing desire waiting readily for permission it seemed to take her, to finish her.

She clung to his back, her nails digging into his shoulders firmly as she felt herself slip against the tiled surface of the wall and her alarm was piqued. He wedged his hips closer to hers and she felt secure enough to open her eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of the stare which met her.

"Trust me." He instructed. "I've got you. I won't let you fall, so relax." He breathed, the words obviously taking some effort. She nodded perhaps a little over-zealously as she pushed his hair back from his face and kissed him, needing to do something about the coil of tension winding tightly within her. She nodded again, over and over as if to urge him on, but she didn't realise exactly what the zealous nodding would do until she felt the friction of being body against body with him.

"Ok?" He asked, she guessed checking her security her feeling of safety for how could he ask her now if she wanted this?

"Yes." She just about murmured before, with one hard thrust which sent her back slapping against the tiles, he was inside of her.

* * *

><p>The noise she made was one which offered him no more and no less than pure delight. It wasn't a scream per se, they hardly needed to engage with the carnal, baser and perhaps naive associations people made with sex. No, the noise she made simply spoke of her satisfaction, her happiness and was one he would not forget.<p>

He rolled his hips, maintaining a rhythm of thrusts which he punctuated with kisses, something he would never negate, no matter what she wanted from him and he set about the task of causing them both to careen over the edges of their sanity. Granted, he was prepared to have to work for it, given their position and the limits this necessarily imposed on her ability to move with him as she usually did, but she was putting in a valiant effort, her whole body arching against his, her hips meeting his as much as was possible as she played her role in their fulfilment.

He didn't know exactly when it had happened, he wasn't aware of how long they had been working each other into a frenzy, but the uncomfortable painfully-pleasured wave of anxiety, of desperation seemed to creep up on him so suddenly that he almost lost it. But she wasn't there yet. He knew this immediately and waited, less than patiently, saving the energy he would need to keep them standing in a few moments. He knew it wouldn't take much more, he could feel in her body and he was prepared to do what it took. Reaching down between them somewhat blindly, letting his slick fingers provide the final aid she would need.

Several long seconds, increasingly erratic breathing and hot opened mouthed kisses and she shifted upwards a little, the tension in her body releasing itself with one final gasp.

* * *

><p>He held her, his strong arms wrapped around her waist as he gave her the time she needed to recover. He wasn't sure if he could stand for much longer, but he was similarly aware that he could not let her fall. Soon, he felt her slide one of her legs down his body until it touched the floor and he felt the relief of her having assumed the majority of the burden of her own weight. They stared at each other lovingly as they tried to return their breathing a normal level and he could tell that whilst the water might have re-stimulated a sense of sobriety in her, it had not washed away her happiness and he was relieved and contented by this. He had done the right thing.<p>

She leant into him, her hand against his thudding heart as she pressed a quick kiss to his mouth, reached behind them and shut off the water. He watched in awed fascination as she wrung out the water which was logging her thick, straight hair before pulling back the curtain and stepping out of the shower. She handed him a towel and helped herself to one. He swathed himself in the welcoming fluffiness before wrapping his arms around her and engulfing her in similar comfort.

He pressed a quick kiss to her shoulder and leant close to her ear, "so tell me, was that _fantastic_ enough for you?" He asked, although he was fairly confident of the answer it never hurt to be told how he had faired.

"That..." she breathed, was definitely_ fantastic_ alright." She sighed contentedly.

He smiled and she felt it on her skin. "Do you want to know something Miss Shah?" He asked.

"Tell me something." She told him, nodding.

"I love you."

"I know you do. I love you too." She told him, letting him almost frog march her back to the bedroom where she wondered if, once they were dry, he would spend the rest of the night making love to his new fiancé... She would know in a matter of minutes, but for now, she sincerely hoped he would...

* * *

><p><strong>So there it is. I hope you enjoyed it. Something a little different perhaps from what you might have been expecting, but I hope something which will offer some light relief before the next chapter... I will say no more... For now. <strong>

**This was inspired by the fact that I went to see 'Magic Mike' and wondered what 'Magic Greg' would look like and the fact that I thought it was high time I made proper use of the M rating on this one, so I hope it was to your satisfaction. **

**Please forgive any editorial errors, I have tried my best. **

**I'd love to know what you thought so please do feel free to leave me a little review or tweet me ( sassybritchelle). **

**The next chapter will be more serious in nature, will be dramatic and all those things I've been hinting at. I'll start work on that almost immediately. **

**Thanks, as always to all who read this, it means so much to me. **

**Love, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	16. Brokenhearted

**Hello lovely people, **

**Thank you as always for the support and for all your comments on the previous chapter, I'm glad that you enjoyed it. I thought you all deserved a little bit of light relief for being such wonderful supporters of this story which has lasted a lot longer than I foresaw when I started writing it. Know that this is all down to you, so thanks. **

**This chapter is going to unleash the carnage of drama I have been threatening since the beginning and if you all keep reading, I'm hoping to whack out the chapters in quick succession they be short tense and punchy (hopefully). It really is dependent on you guys and how much you want to see what happens next. **

**The chapter title is taken from the song of the same name 'Broken Hearted' by Karmin so credit where it's due but please don't make assumptions about this one. They will be wrong. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"Sahira, I thought we agreed that we wouldn't argue." He told her, the handset propped into the crook of his shoulder as he struggled to manoeuvre his way through the house with his hands full.<p>

"_I'm not arguing, I'm just..." _She began to retort, but he spoke over her.

"Good. So you'll meet me." He replied, cajoling her.

"_Ugh..."_ She made a noise of distaste at his interpretation of her words before continuing, _"I just thought, y'know since the boys are with Rafi tonight, we could have a night in. I'll cook, we'll talk – there's something I need to discuss with you." _She told him, fast seeing the demise of her perfect night in.

"I'm not asking for the whole night... Well I am. But I want you to meet me when your shift ends, is that really so hard? Do this for me and you can talk my ear off I promise. I'm all yours."

"_Greg..."_ She complained.

"Sahira when have I ever asked you for anything?" He asked, knowing that he could play the wounded party until the cats came home – until he realised that he regularly asked her for things and that she would use these against him – especially since his requests usually took the form of sexual favours. "Wait, don't answer that."

"_It's not that I don't want to meet you, it's just that I'm really tired, if I knew what the surprise was on the other hand... maybe I could find some energy from somewhere." _She teased.

"Nice try. But it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you would it?"

"_You're not going to let up on this are you?"_

"You're just realising this?" He laughed.

"_Alright, alright I give up. Where?"_ She asked.

"There's my girl. On the corner of Berry road. _2.45 pm." _

"_Hanging around on street corners now is it? Anyone would think you had a proposition for me." _

"Something like that. I'll see you later. I love you." He told her.

At the hospital, Sahira's eyes flicked worriedly towards the approaching figure of Jac Naylor, who already wore a sarcastic smirk owing to the fact that she had caught her on the phone. If she heard her uttering words of adoration, it would just be another twist of the knife. _"Mm hmm. You too." _She told him. Quickly running her finger over the engagement ring she wore on her right hand, she felt instantly guilty – like she had short changed him or something. Pushing her personal feelings aside, she pocketed her phone and turned to Jac with the sickly-sweet smile she knew irritated her, wondering just which piece of her soul the ice-maiden wanted to destroy today. Greg would, undoubtedly understand.

* * *

><p>Greg smiled to himself satisfactorily, knowing that his plan was falling into place. Even as he thought about the way she was still unable to admit her feelings for him in front of their colleagues, he couldn't bring himself to be disheartened. He knew why she behaved the way she did, knew she had reasons and that they were valid. Whilst he didn't fully understand why she insisted on wearing the engagement ring he had given her over a year ago on the wrong hand, or why she couldn't see the benefits of outing their relationship, he didn't complain because the minute they were in the privacy of the car on their way home, she would apologise and put the ring back on her left hand. They were happy, happier than he had imagined they could be and he was grateful that even after the passage of that fate-determining first year, neither one of them felt their feelings had diminished. They had even managed to explain Greg's graduation from 'Mummy's friend' to 'Mummy's <em>special <em>friend' to ultimately 'Mummy's boyfriend' to the boys and the news had gone down particularly well with them, even if he said so himself. He loved the fact that if he wanted to kiss her when she got in from work, then he could without having to find an excuse to absent himself from the company of his little friends. The last step, he kept trying to persuade her, was getting married. This line of argument had been admittedly less successful – not owing to the fact that she had changed her mind, but owing to the amount of time they would have to spend planning a wedding and the amount of time they_ realistically _had to plan said wedding. Hence why they had kept everything a secret from their colleagues – this way there was no pressure – no time limit on their engagement. No, instead there was awkwardness and almost being caught out – there were knowing smiles and slips of the tongue and he was in a spin as to what he could and couldn't say. So he was putting an end to the confusion. As of today at _5.00 pm. _

He loaded the precious cargo he had been performing a balancing act with into the front seat, seat belting it all in just to be sure. He was just about to get into his car when his phone buzzed, alerting him to a call.

"Hello?"

"_So what did she say?" _

"She's going to meet me, it took some persuading though."

"_I'll bet. She was always a tough cookie..." _He stopped himself before he said something which was hardly appropriate.

"Rafi, are you sure you're Ok with this?" He asked, his question tentative.

"_Define Ok... No, seriously Greg... I tried to hate you - both of you, but it was just a waste of energy. Do you know, it takes far more energy to hate something than to accept it?" _He laughed before going on. _"I hated you for being an obstacle to our happiness but then I realised there hadn't been an 'our' for Sahira and I for quite some time, so it was about time that I started thinking about her happiness – to stop being selfish. The truth was... it is... that you make her happy Greg. Really, truly happy in a way I'd be surprised to find I ever did. So I might not like it and I'm certainly not over it, but I do accept it and if that's the same thing as being Ok with this, then I'm it." _He confirmed.

"Thanks Rafi. This means a lot. I'd like to think that one day we'll all be on good terms again." Greg replied.

"_Why not make that day today? What time did you want the boys ready for?"_ He asked his voice harbouring nothing more than forgiveness.

"I have to make a quick stop on the way over but I could be there for _2.10. _That should give us time to finish getting dressed and then get to the place. Is that alright?"

"_I'll have them ready for you, this is the only thing they've been able to talk about all day." _

"Well let's just hope their mother feels the same excitement then." Greg replied nervously.

"_She will. Sahira pretends not to like surprises, but secretly they thrill her. Strictly one man to another you understand." _Rafi replied not wanting to see intrusive on the way the couple went about their relationship.

"That's good to know. See you soon, thanks again." Greg told him, waiting for the return goodbye from Rafi before he hung up.

Feeling like things had gone rather well, he got into the car and pulled out onto the road, noting how much it felt like he was just embarking on a journey of a whole other kind.

* * *

><p>On Darwin, things were busy. But then, when weren't they? People were always being admitted with broken hearts and they were always required to fix them- that was part of the reason why she loved the job, why they all did, but she found this feeling severely diminished when she had somewhere to be. She glanced at the clock on the wall of the nurses' station and noted that she had about ten minutes left on shift. Considering she had been going since six this morning on little more than a milky latte, those ten minutes were feeling like a drag. But she did not have idle time to clock watch. Instead as her last order of duty for the day, she had to conduct a post-operative assessment of Mrs Dowling so that the correct level of care could be assigned. This was something of the upmost importance and something which, even though the ward was rife with over eager med-students, she always liked to perform for herself, just to ensure that she was always giving the best of herself to her patients.<p>

Having completed Mrs Dowling's notes and left instructions with Tara to the tune of half-hourly obs, Sahira let herself into the staff locker room and pulled her hair out of its mandatory surgery-imposed ponytail, before stripping out of her scrub top. Just as she reached for the sheer white blouse she would soon adorn, the door burst open and then there he was. Not the charming, handsome, sexy as Hell Irishman she wanted it to be, but rather the severe, overbearingly tall, stern faced Swede. Henrik Hanssen was stood in the door, getting more than an eyeful of the way she looked dressed only in her intimates.

"Henrik!" She exclaimed, quickly grabbing the blouse and throwing it haphazardly over her head. "Haven't you heard of knocking?!" She replied testily, fastening the remaining buttons at the speed of light and trying to do something about the expression she knew she wore at that moment.

"There really wasn't the time and I wouldn't bother with that Miss Shah." He told her, indicating the blouse she had just hurried into. "You're needed. Now." He told her, retreating from the room without so much as the slightest blush.

"What?" She asked running the short distance to the door and calling out to him before he assumed once again that she was his puppet, her voice firmly placed in its upper octaves. "No. My shift ended two minutes ago... I have to..." He cut her off before she could argue.

He turned towards her slowly, the set of his shoulders indicating the likely forgiveness in his reply. "You have to do your job. Now it may pain you to know this but since Mr Douglas is not on shift at the present moment, you are the only surgeon on site experienced enough in cardiac trauma procedure to deal with the incoming case. So whatever it is that 'you just have to', undo it and go and meet the ambulance. Now." He told her curtly and with unquestionable firmness.

"Couldn't Jac do it, just this once?" She asked.

"Miss Shah, perhaps you misheard me. I have told you the situation as it stands and I must insist most resolutely that there is absolutely no possibility of another member of staff assuming responsibility for this case. CTU was as you so aptly put it to me once, 'your baby'. You of all people should know, above all things, a baby needs its mother." He told her and then he was gone, leaving no further room for argument.

* * *

><p>Left reeling from his assumptions and from his ability to manipulate her emotions the way only he could, Sahira contemplated the possibility of simply walking out, for once in her life not giving into Henrik Hanssen and his 'protégé' delusions. She could have done it, was perfectly in her rights to do it, if she had been the kind of doctor who simply wanted to rack up the contracted hours necessary to live the high-life. Fortunately for the patients and unfortunately for her personal life, she was not and Hanssen knew this about her. She hated that and just for today, knowing that Greg was going to be heading to Berry road and to whatever surprise he had organised for her there, she hated this part of herself too. With a huff, she stripped back out of her blouse and threw her scrub top back on.<p>

As she made her way towards the lifts she quickly pulled out her phone and dialled his number, perhaps unsurprised to find that it connected her to his voice mail.

"Babe it's me. Look I'm coming. I am. But Hanssen just roped me in on a case but I'll be as quick as I can. I want to be with you, know that that's all I'm thinking about." She glanced quickly around her before adding "I love you." To the end of her message before she hung up.

Storming past the nurses' station at which sat a very smug looking Jac Naylor, she scraped her hair back into a ponytail as she finally reached the lift and punched the button to call it.

* * *

><p>Greg smiled to himself again, feeling rather like the cat that had the cream today. Everything was going perfectly. So far, there had been absolutely no hitches. He had just left the post office depot in the centre of Holby after having picked up a very special delivery sent all the way from 'Hannah's Haven' in Galway and he hummed a happy tune, something from <em>CBeebies <em>if he was not very much mistaken, as he loaded the box into the passenger seat alongside the other things he had brought along with him. He glanced at his watch, it was a little after ten-to-two and he had around twenty minutes to get from Holby City centre back to Rafi's place on the outskirts to collect arguably the most precious part of the surprise. Just as he was about to start the car, his phone made the annoying noise which signalled a new message and he quickly connected himself to his waiting inbox. After having listened to the message, he found his smile slightly skewed but not totally gone, there was time. There was plenty of time, this was exactly why he had asked her to meet him so early, this way there was a slim chance that they would miss it. It didn't matter, he would just continue onto Rafi's and then swing by the hospital to pick her up after he had collected the boys. Safe in the knowledge that nothing could hurt him on a day like today, he put on his indicator and pulled into the main flow of traffic exiting the City.

It was going to be perfect, he was sure of that. He had never thought that feeling the way he did now was possible, especially given his romantic past – for all that it had been. If he had met himself, even as recently as three years ago, he would have laughed at himself had he been told that he would be this in love, this happy – living with two young children, engaged and looking forward to his wedding day. But it had happened and his heart felt so full, so hopeful, so complete. These feelings of euphoria ran through his veins, pulsating, raging, thundering and now his heart felt... Wait. What could he feel? It wasn't euphoria... it was... Pain. Searing, torturous, clenching, gripping, consuming... His hand slid up his chest, grabbing at his shirt with fisted fingers. Something wasn't right. Something was very, very wrong. Pain, twisting, writhing, controlling... Pain. Pain...

This was not right, this tightness in his chest and yet, as he began to lose control of his senses, of his coherent thoughts, it was not unexpected. In fact quite the contrary. It was almost a welcome reminder of his own mortality, of his roots. As he resigned himself to his fate, he was overwhelmed by the image of his father - Daniel Douglas thirty eight years of age, just two years old than Greg was, collapsing at the garden party celebration of his parents' anniversary. Usually ox-like in strength, Daniel's legs had simply buckled under him as a pain unrivalled by any other gripped him and caused his final demise. Congenital heart failure. Three words that had meant little to him, the indestructible Greg Douglas, until now: until this moment when he was positioned squarely before the thought of losing this game he called life, losing her – causing her loss.

In a last ditch attempt to save at least some of the people who surrounded him on the busy City roadway if he could not save himself, he swerved the car, with the last of his strength changing lanes so quickly that nothing other than pure selflessness motivated it.

It was a selflessness misguided. He had not done himself or anyone else any favours at all. In his pain induced blindness and frenzy, his perception was necessarily reduced and it was this which had caused his failure to notice the overbearingly obvious. The arctic lorry directly in his path... Until it was too late... As the sounds of crushing metal and of shattering glass echoed in the immediate area, he had the presence of mind for only one word, the most important thing in his world. "Sahira."

* * *

><p>"I am <em>so <em>late." She announced as she threw her theatre gown and hat into the medical waste bin and began to rinse her hands under the tap.

"_You_, Miss Shah are a _surgeon_. There are precious few genuine practitioners left in our dying creed. So pride is all you should feel. It's not often that one finds someone as ruthlessly dedicated to priority as you are." Henrik told her with that aloofly-proud-father tone that he always harnessed around her - the one that always irked her and made her feel like he knew every one of her innermost thoughts, which just made her uncomfortable.

"That may be but tell me Henrik, when does priority become obsession?" She asked, the question not intentionally malicious but rather could not however, help being bitingly pertinent to Henrik himself who was arguably the most obsessionally dedicated man in all of medicine.

"In my experience, if one is truly dedicated to their craft, there is rarely a difference. Making it in our world and staying there is about sacrifice – blood, sweat and tears. Surely you know that by now." He told her, certain of his reply as he finished his compulsive rinsing and headed for the door.

Sahira could do nothing but raise a sardonic eyebrow at the now closed vacuum door. "That sacrifice..." She told no one but herself "is my family." She finished sadly, exiting theatre as she glanced again at the clock and wondered how on Earth she would ever make this up to Greg...

* * *

><p>Carnage. That was the only way to describe the scene which had befallen the City roadway. All vehicular passage had ground to a silent halt as metal panelling, shards of glass and sparks flew across the roads. The black car - or what was left of it - had not stopped rolling yet and the person inside of it seemed rather more like a rag-doll than a human as he was thrown from side to side, forwards and backwards as the car almost somersaulted in the air. Finally, after what seemed like hours for the terrified onlookers who had scrambled to a safe distance, the car banged to a halt in the outside lane: the sound of metal on asphalt and tarmac blood-curdling in intensity. For several seconds, there was an eerie silence punctuated only by the violent screeching of the arctic lorry's brakes and the crackle of a fire which had broken out mere metres from the mangled car.<p>

Someone screamed.

In the crowd, a child could be heard whimpering. Although greater attention to this particular expression of grief and terror told of multitudes like that one distinguishable voice, all of whom could not contemplate an occurrence so terrible.

But in the ears of one bravely resolute woman, her face stained with tears, there was only ringing, followed quickly by the key-tones of the three repeated numbers. _9-9-9. _It seemed to take forever for the call to connect and as she looked on at the wreckage Claire Turner, an emergency services operator from London who had been on her way home from visiting family in Bristol, wondered if those precious seconds even mattered now for the occupant of the car.

"_Which service do you require?" _A voice so calm, not unlike the voice she had been trained to use, asked on the other end of the phone.

"Ambulance... Police... No wait... Fire... We need them all." He voice shook and her breathing was erratic.

"_What is the nature of the emergency?" _The passive voice asked, although Claire, who was one of the rare breed of these emotionally-controlled operatives, could recognise a note of panic, just a note.

"Accident. On the Holby City roadway." She reported. "Please... I think... I think someone died." She whispered, so quietly she couldn't be sure she had even spoken the words...

* * *

><p><strong>Dun, dun, dun... <strong>

**Do you all hate me now? **

**I did warn you would be carnage and you know my penchant for cliff hangers by now! I hope you'll let me know what you thought of it - reviews and tweets are equally welcome ( sassybritchelle). **

**As I said these next few chapters four/ five will be (fairly) short and if you all want them and tell me so, will appear in relatively quick succession or as fast as I can physically type them anyway! So if you want more, you know what to do. **

**I hope I caught all the edits, it's much harder to edit your own words than that of others, please forgive me any minor mistakes. I have tried my best.**

**Thank you as always for reading. **

**Love, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	17. Realise

**Hello lovely people, **

**Well I told you these chapters would be appearing in quick succession, they are designed by nature to be tense and deliberately short and I think this will be no exception. Thank you as always for your support and thank you to my guest reviewer for your continued reviews, they mean a lot to me. **

**The title of this chapter is taken from the song of the same name by Colbie Caillat, so credit where it's due. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. **

**I hope you enjoy this one!**

* * *

><p>As she shut her locker door, having finished getting dressed, she heard the slightly metallic bounce of her ring as it hit the tiled floor. She experienced a quick surge of panic as she felt it slip from her finger, but locating it a short distance away, she breathed a sigh of relief. Glancing at the clock she could not feel the same relief. <em>3.40 pm, <em>she was almost exactly an hour late and she couldn't have felt worse about that. If she ever got some guts, one of these days, Henrik Hanssen was going to be on the receiving end of her sudden increase in gumption. That was for certain. She pulled out her phone, finding it odd that he hadn't contacted her to check on her progress. Either that meant he was in a particularly forgiving mood and was simply awaiting her arrival, or he wasn't going to mention it again and there would be only silence to greet her when she got home. Hoping for the former, she put her phone in her bag and bent down to collect her ring from the floor but she noticed another hand had already beaten her to the punch, someone she hadn't even heard enter, being that far engulfed in her own little bubble.

The hand surrounded the ring and they both straightened, Sahira's breath catching in her chest as she realised she might well have been rumbled.

"It's beautiful." He murmured, inspecting the ring more closely.

"It is." She agreed holding her hand out for the ring, but he withheld it for a moment.

"Genuine emerald I would wager." He commented.

"Yes."

"Although, it _is_ strange... I mean call me an old fashioned romantic, but I'll bet the person who gave it to you expected you'd wear it on your left hand." He continued, his eyes meeting hers.

"Elliot... I...we... Please don't mention it to anyone." She begged.

"Sahira, I think you need to wear it on your left hand." He told her, reaching for the appropriate hand and sliding the ring onto her fourth finger. "It _is _Greg isn't it? I mean it _was_ him who gave it to you?" He asked, wiser than anyone really gave him the credit for.

"Mm hmm."

"Be proud of him Sahira." He told her his voice wavering just a moment.

"I am." She told him resolutely before continuing, "Elliot, is everything Ok?" She asked, observing his glistening eyes and the way he seemed unable to look at her.

"Sahira... Greg's here..." He began, his voice choking just a little.

"Oh God, I am _so_ late for something... I don't know what... a surprise. Is he angry?" She asked, not in the least surprised that he had come by to pick her up.

"No Sahira. Listen to me. Greg is _here_. He's been admitted as patient." His words were heavy with untold measures of grief.

"What?" She seemed to be in a state of disbelief. "What's the matter with him?" She asked, eyeing the door, but Elliot held her hands firmly, keeping her in her place for the moment.

"The trauma line just alerted us to an incoming case."

"The trauma line? _Our_ trauma line – the_ cardiac_ trauma line? His heart? What's the matter with his heart?" She wasn't even aware of the number of questions she had just fired at Elliot, only that she needed answers and fast. She had quickly descended into a state of distress, her heart rate elevated and her mind frenzied as she tried desperately to process what she was being told.

Surely this was some sort of hoax, a joke – admittedly a cruel joke- on his part, payback so to speak for her abandonment of his surprise. But she only had to look at Elliot's serious face and the way he struggled to maintain composure, to know that this was no joke. It was then that the realisation hit her – this was really happening. "What's wrong with Greg, Elliot?" Sahira begged, tears streaming down her face. She pulled at him, shook her wrists in an attempt to free herself but although she wanted nothing more than to run from the room, from this, she knew that if he let her go she would likely collapse.

"Sahira... I know this is hard but you need to listen to me, listen." He tried to soothe. "There's been an accident, a terrible accident. He was leaving the City..." He tried to continue but she cut across him.

"The City? What was he doing in the City – he told me Berry Road." She couldn't seem to understand it.

"I don't know the answer to that but he was on the roadway heading back towards the suburbs... His car overturned... More than that... I don't know the details exactly – the transport police are on scene now, but witnesses from the outside lane say that he seems to have collapsed at the wheel... There was an arctic lorry... Paramedics on scene conducted some initial tests and it seems that his heart failed... the crux of the issue though is..." again she interrupted him.

"Is he... _dead_?" She couldn't believe the word was leaving her mouth.

"No. He's alive. But we're going to have to do some tests before we can ascertain the true severity of the situation, do you understand what I'm saying?" He asked, his hand sliding up to her back as he noticed her legs beginning to buckle.

"Where... where is he?" She asked in strangled voice.

"He's on his way up now, as I said, the trauma line alerted us to the case and it is to the credit of the paramedics on site that he is being rushed through to us as a priority case – they took the decision to bypass the E.D in favour of more immediate treatment."

"I have to see him." She told him.

"Of course." He didn't argue, "and Sahira? We're going to do our very best." He assured her.

"I know." She murmured as he released her and she ran towards the ward...

* * *

><p><strong>There it is. Hope it was Ok, sorry I didn't exactly resolve the cliff hanger... But... at least he's alive... is that consolation? <strong>

**I hope I caught all the edits, if not please forgive me. **

**Reviews, tweets ( sassybritchelle) and comments are always welcome and indeed are the driving force behind these quick fire chapters. **

**Thanks as always for reading**

**Love, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	18. Hold My Hand

**Hello lovely people, **

**I'm sure you're going to be getting bored of me and this story in a minute but whilst I have the motivation, the plot direction and frankly the time (since I'm off on my jollies from Monday) I'm going to be powering ahead – so here it is, the next part.**

**Thanks for your support and reviews, they are gold dust to me **

**The title of this chapter is taken from the song of the same name by Michael Jackson – God rest, (featuring Akon), so credit where it's due. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>He broke into his best effort at a jog to keep up with her, suddenly feeling incredibly paternally responsible for her and wanting to protect her from the hurt, not that he thought he ever could, not from the horror of facing the potential loss of a loved one – but still he could try.<p>

"Stop!" He called out but not to her as he saw the trolley fly across the linoleum floor. "Stop Miss Naylor!" He panted as he too reached the trolley and placed a hand on the metal bars, trying not to balk at the sight of Greg, motionless and broken as he looked now.

"With all due respect Elliot there simply isn't time to be emotional about this. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

"I said" he reiterated with an irritated pause, "I_ need_ a moment Miss Naylor." He told her firmly and Jac immediately backed off.

"Alright, alright, sorry it's just – he needs a scan, we have to get moving on this."

"Yes I agree, but there's someone here who needs a moment with him, just a moment." He told her in a quietly angry voice.

"Oh really? Who?" She asked sarcastically, but beneath that statement approach to well, everything, there was professional and perhaps personal concern for her colleague.

"His fiancé." Sahira replied, stepping up to the trolley and ignoring the gasps which resounded severally after her announcement.

* * *

><p>Tears caught in her throat as she looked down at him, his face virtually unrecognisable to anyone who didn't know it as well as a lover should and his body was limp, lifeless and broken. But these were not the worst of the injuries – worse still was the almost foot long shard of glass which was firmly wedged in his chest cavity, roughly, she guessed through her tears, a millimetre from his heart – if they were lucky. Even in her emotionally distraught state, she had enough presence of mind to know that this could have caused untold damage to his already distressed heart.<p>

"Greg..." the word seemed pathetic since he couldn't hear her in his unconscious state but it was the only thing she could think of at that moment.

"Sahira you have to know, most of his injuries are superficial. His heart restarted and that gives us hope, you have to believe that he'll be alright." Elliot spoke quietly beside her as he watched his stricken colleague stroke Greg's face for lack of anything productive to do.

"He has to be Ok. He has to, I can't lose him. Do you understand? I can't lose him. Not now." She told him more bitterly than she intended to.

* * *

><p>She turned back towards Greg, noticing the ghostly pallor of his skin and realising for the first time that these precious seconds might cost him more than she was willing to let him pay but feeling somehow unable to let him go she held his hand, not caring about the blood and trying not to think about the fact that he did not lace his fingers with hers or squeeze her hand in any indication that he was aware of her presence. "What were you doing in the City? What were you doing there eh?" She asked helplessly, tears running off the tip of her nose.<p>

"Actually we were hoping you'd be able to piece that together for us Ma'am." A voice spoke from behind her and she turned to see a member of the police standing calmly with a zip-lock dry-cleaning bag in his arms. "You see we found this and thought it might be some indication as to the reason for Mr Douglas' trip into the City." He continued and she nodded almost imperceptibly but didn't let go of his hand.

"Sahira, we really must take him now. Why don't you stay here and talk to the detectives? I'll update you the second I know anything, the smallest detail – you'll be the first to know." Elliot assured her.

"Whatever the prognosis? However bad you think it is?" She asked not wanting to be protected.

"I promise." He agreed.

"Good – well we should go." Jac pressed.

"Wait, just a minute more - please." Sahira begged, leaning in close to him and pressing a kiss to his frighteningly cool lips. "I love you. Hear that, _please _hear that. I don't care who knows, I love you. Come back to me._ Please_..." She murmured stepping back as they began to wheel him away.

"Miss Naylor," Elliot began "I want to assume responsibility for Greg's case from now on. Could you stay here with Miss Shah please?" He asked, knowing it was a big request for the usually emotionless consultant.

"But I..." She began argue as they made their way to the scan-room at the end of the corridor, but when she looked back over her shoulder, the sight of Sahira crumbling where she stood, collapsing to her knees and staring unseeingly towards Heaven made something catch in the back of Jac's throat, something she rarely experienced – genuine pity and sorrow, combining and twisting in the place where her heart resided, reminding her of her humanity. "Of course." She breathed her acquiescence to the dust as she realised Elliot had already gone.

* * *

><p>Turning back towards her colleague, Jac Naylor found that she had to brace herself for the emotional storm she was about to weather. She said nothing as she made her way back to the place where Sahira had been since the moment they had wheeled Greg away and slowly sank to the ground beside the other woman.<p>

Her hair was stuck to her face owing to her tears and these fell like a waterfall as she rocked slowly back and forth, her hands clasped in front of her. She looked pitiful and Jac felt a pang of sympathy with her that she never had before. She touched her hand to her shoulder gently and even this brief contact made Sahira flinch.

"I know why he was in the City..." She murmured and Jac remained silent sensing she needed to let her finish of her own accord. "The police found that." She titled her head to indicate the detective who still held the zip-lock bag.

Jac got to her feet and ran her eyes over its contents, realisation hitting her. "Wait, isn't that?"

"Yeah. The dress I wore to that function. Greg and I... Greg... He was only saying the other day how he thought there was little point buying a... a wedding dress when he thought I already looked like a bride on that night. Apparently there were shoes in the car too or at least... they think there were..." She paused tears straining in her voice. "Then it suddenly hit me. Berry Road. There's a little garden there, he asked my opinion of it the other day. It all makes sense now."

"So you think that what?" Jac replied trying to piece it together "Greg was planning some kind of wedding service for you?" She asked and Sahira nodded, fresh tears pouring down her face. "How does that explain why he was in the City? Berry Road – it's not far from Greg's... your place right?" She asked, confused as she settled back down next to her.

"He must have had an errand to run, one only I would understand. Apparently the City roadway looks like a... like a mass memorial site. I suppose it is really." She sighed, exhausted from crying so much.

"What do you mean?"

"Blue Hibiscus flowers. Everywhere. Something blue. I'll bet on my life they were from a florist we visited. In Ireland." A single tear rolled down her cheek. "All this, for me. The effort of it all – and all because I was too stubborn, too _busy_ to get married like a normal, happily engaged woman and now he's..." She made to continue but Jac cut across her.

"Getting the best care possible, the_ best_ and playing a blame game isn't going to help anyone, least of all Greg." Jac told her, her curt tone exactly what was needed in this situation.

"He can't die Jac, I can't lose him."

"We're going to do our best, you know that. Once we know more, we'll be able to move forward. You know the drill." She told her, her voice dropping to an octave which almost resembled soothing.

"You have to do better than the best, I can't lose him. I can't." She told her insistently and with strength and power only attainable by those in the midst of the highest grief.

"We will." Jac agreed, knowing that she was foolish to suggest anything at all without having seen the scan results and the extent of the damage.

"Stupid bloody man." Sahira almost spat after a moment and Jac recoiled in surprise. "I told him, I told him on the phone I just wanted a night in, I had to talk to him... I told him..." She seemed almost delirious in her grief.

"Sahira..." Jac didn't really know what she had been going to say, but it didn't matter as the other woman began rambling over the top of her.

"You have to save him, I can't do it alone, I can't. I can't do it alone..." She made little sense.

"Do what?"

"This... I can't do it." She repeated and when Jac still didn't grasp it, she made it more obvious.

* * *

><p>Sliding her hand to the space just below her navel, she looked Jac right in the eye as she said the words "This." She said again. "I can't do this alone." Realisation settled in the air. "I was going to tell him tonight... I'm pregnant and I can't do it alone." She finally revealed and a deathly silence followed. Jac knew that surprised, shocked even, didn't begin to cover how she felt in the wake of this revelation and she could think of nothing to say. She knew however, now more than ever, they had to save Greg. Not just for Sahira but for the baby she carried. Jac knew the implication of what Sahira was saying and she knew what the stress of this could do to the baby...<p>

Sahira regarded her usually stony faced colleague and found that where ordinarily her face was unreadable, now there was an array of emotions all fighting for dominance. What was most frightening however, was the permanent 'O' her mouth seemed to be fixed into. The pair were silent for a moment and in that time Jac seemed to come to her senses, life coming back into her eyes.

"Don't say it Jac. Whatever it is, however witty and brilliant it might sound in your head, trust me – it isn't. So please, just don't." She told her tiredly - from the stress and anxiety and the fear which still coiled inside her.

"I.. I wasn't going to say anything." Jac replied distractedly. Then after a second she continued. "Actually that's not true. I wanted to say I'm sorry Sahira, sorry that this has happened." She finished and since she could think of nothing better to do, she held out her hand to the other woman and was a little more grateful when she felt the pressure of a hand against hers.

No more words were exchanged, Jac simply closed her fingers around her colleague's shaking hand, knowing that since Elliot did not require her in theatre, this was the best way that she could help right now. For once in her life Jac found that in holding Sahira's hand and waiting silently for news with her, she was doing the first unselfish thing in her professional life since Joseph had left...

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><p><strong>I just keep those bombshells coming now don't I? You love it really! I hope you like my use of Jac in this one, I thought it would be unexpected but I hope – not totally out of character – I wanted to show her human side, I think it exists vaguely – somewhere deep below the surface and here it is – or at least my interpretation. <strong>

**To Ems – You know you had my number on the surprise and tra-la here it is! You super sleuth you! (Don't forget to send me that one shot prompt eh?). **

**Let me know what you thought of this and if you want the next chapter – it means a lot to me to hear your thoughts and keeps me posting. **

**Thank you as always for reading**

**Love, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	19. Gaurdian

**Hello lovely people :-) **

**Thank you for your support on the previous chapters of this one, I know they came at you pretty quick fire and that they were a little more traumatic than perhaps some of you were expecting – sorry about that! I'm also sorry I haven't gotten round to updating this one as quickly as I would have liked but I'm here now and I'll make up for it, promise. **

**This chapter is inspired by the song of the same name by Alanis Morissette I thought it kind of fit what I wanted this chapter to say, so all credit where it's due. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Sahira had passed the stage of wallowing in grief a short while ago when she had realised that not only was she about as cried out as she could be, but also that she was absolutely no use to anybody if she couldn't think straight. So she took a breath, dried her tears and focused on a new emotion – anger. Just because she was no longer sad, there was nothing whatsoever to suggest that she shouldn't feel an emotion equally as powerful and she was angry. Livid with rage at multiple sources: With Greg – for being so hopelessly romantic and not listening to protests about not going out today, at herself – for being angry with Greg and for not leaving her shift when she was supposed to but mostly at Henrik Hanssen, for once again forcing her to de-prioritise her family. She was furious that because of him, she hadn't been with him as she had said she would be and it was in his direction that her anger took her.<p>

* * *

><p>She flew up to the office on the highest floor of the hospital, aptly named the land of the Gods (for all the people who occupied these offices thought of themselves as divine) and found his door with the practised ease of one who had pounded upon it on numerous prior occasions. Pounding did not however, describe the fury she unleashed on the door now – beating seemed more appropriate. She beat and beat on the wood, trying the handle of the door – to no avail. He was not in his office and she quickly began to admit defeat. Until Mr Seabrook, head of hospital accounting popped his head around the door of the office next door, his expression speaking volumes for the way he felt about her rude interruption to his afternoon of number crunching. "Mr Hanssen is not in his office, nor has he been for the last thirty minutes." He told her testily.<p>

"Oh... Sorry," she mumbled although she did not feel much like apologising. "Do you know where he is at the moment?" She tried to return her voice to its normal pleasantness, but even she knew it sounded hollow.

"He was called down onto one of the wards – Darwin I think, whatever the reason, it must have 'cut the mustard' with him because he deigned to leave his office for some big case or other..."

"It's Greg Douglas." She deadpanned.

"Greg Douglas... can't say it rings a bell." The older man mused.

"_Greg Douglas – C.T registrar_." She hissed choosing to divulge only his professional credentials, which should have been enough in this place before turning her back on him and leaving him wondering what he had said.

* * *

><p>She heard a low murmuring inside of Elliot's office and this time, she did not afford the people inside any type of privacy. She knew this was about Greg and she thought of all people, she had the most right to hear it. She barged in through the door and Henrik stopped his train of thought abruptly, his whole body tensing as she squared up to him, eyeing Jac nervously as she sought from the other woman some sort of explanation.<p>

"Miss Shah, this meeting is for _consultants_." Hanssen reprimanded her.

"_This meeting_ should be about keeping the people who matter informed on Greg's condition." She told him angrily. "It's been half an hour now and I have yet to be told anything. You might have forgotten Henrik but I am not a faceless relative like all the others might be to you, I cannot and I _will_ not be treated like I know nothing. I won't." She told him insistently, her voice rising in sheer defiance.

"Miss Shah, would you kindly desist?" He replied flatly.

"Why won't anyone tell me anything?" She seemed desperate as she shot glances at the two senior members of staff.

"Sahira" he softened his voice just a fraction before continuing, "no one has told you anything as yet because there is nothing to tell. Right now, it is almost impossible to tell what the state of play is. Mr Douglas' chest cavity is in rather a severe state and he will need urgent G.S attention but at this very moment, he is undergoing scans to ascertain the viability of surgery given the C.T complications of the case." He told her levelly.

"This is your fault!" She exclaimed getting to the root of her point almost immediately.

"My fault?" He stiffened again, tension pulsing at his temple. "How may I ask, did you come to that misinformed conclusion?" He asked drily. "I think, Miss Shah, if you stop and think about this logically, you'll remember that Mr Douglas_, not I_ was driving the car, Mr Douglas _not I_ has been missing his scheduled routine check-ups at St. James' and the fault for those things and the consequent effect of them as experienced today lies squarely with him." He told her coldly and after taking one look at Sahira's face following this reply, Jac winced and tried to excuse herself.

"How dare you? You think that this is his fault? How could he have predicted that this would happen and how dare you attack him when he can't possibly defend himself?" She shouted, jabbing the tall Swede in the chest for his heartless and to project her anger outwards.

"Miss Shah I must ask you to refrain from expressing yourself physically, this is_ not_ a conversation we should have. I wouldn't want something to be said that might be _regretted_ when all this over. Now, I suggest if you're looking to ask questions, to seek answers - then you should seek them from your _fiancé." _He said that last word with some sarcasm after having spotted the ring she wore on her left hand.

"What does that mean?"

"Well, did you know that Greg's heart condition was congenital?"

"I knew his father had died of some type of weakness of the heart..." He cut across her before she could go on.

"But you were _not_ aware that Mr Douglas was requested to attend a clinic at St. James' some three years ago after they received a red flagged alert on their system concerning the urgency and imperativeness of his attending scans to avoid , well to be frank, this?"

"What?"

"Yes. Well this is precisely what I'm talking about, you might think twice about throwing around wild accusations. Perhaps a little mutual honesty may have avoided this situation."

"Situation? What are you talking about and what do you mean 'mutual honesty?'"

"Really Miss Shah, you're hardly yourself now are you? How for example, do you think Mr Douglas would feel if he knew you were _disputing_ with me, playing a blame game, _in your condition?" _

She was shocked, she felt instantly sick and immediately looked for Jac, but at some indiscernible point, she must have slipped away because she was nowhere to be found. "In my condition?" She repeated the question slowly. "How dare you bring my personal life into this, how dare you detract my attention away from the fact that you are responsible for this? It might have worked before Henrik, but it won't anymore. I will not be your beck and call girl any longer. If you had never kept me back on that case..." He cut across her abruptly.

"Then you would have quite possibly been dead. Then where would all this be? Your children would be motherless, your unborn child would have remained that way and you would have been wasted – your talent, your very existence. This way, you lived." He told her about as passionately as he could, gripping her and shaking her into the same realm of understanding as he was in – she lived that was the main thing.

" Don't pretend that you could predict this and don't for one second even begin to think about making the suggestion I know you're trying to make. Besides, I lived at what expense? Greg. How dare you purport to assume that my life is worth more than Greg's? You don't understand do you? If he dies, I don't want to live." She told him realising it was true.

"Miss Shah..."

"No, it's true. This is your fault, my life is in ruins because of you."

"I will not have..."

"Sahi?" A familiar voice spoke from the doorway and the fighting pair turned quickly towards it.

"Ah, Dr Raza. Perhaps _you_ can deal with_ this_." Hanssen seemed relieved as he span Sahira towards her ex-husband.

"_This_?" How dare you? _This_ is my... this is Sahira and she's clearly in distress - I think you'd do well to get on the emotional spectrum Hanssen." He growled at the other man, pulling Sahira in close and noticing how she clawed at him desperately, clinging to his shirt for dear life the way she had at the start of their end. It seemed symbolic somehow but he did not want to read in to it – that this desperation might symbolise her recognition of an end of a different kind.

"Yes... well emotional hysteria will not benefit anyone in this situation, so please do what you can to stop her wailing like that." Hanssen told him coldly and before Rafi could respond, the other man was gone.

* * *

><p>For several long minutes, Rafi said nothing. Clearly, Sahira could not form a coherent sentence and he could find nothing to say to make this situation any better. Although he had only been given the basic, emotionless rendition of what had happened by Jac Naylor, he knew enough about it to accept and to understand why she was so upset. He couldn't blame her and yet he knew nothing he could say could ever make this right. So he just held her in his arms, encircling her whilst her head rested on his shoulder and her whole body shook, but minutes and minutes seemed to pass and still her sobs showed no sign of abating.<p>

"Sahira, what on Earth happened?" He asked, not really understanding how Greg had gone from the arrangement they had made earlier to... this. "Greg was supposed to collect the boys from me, he said he only had an errand to run and..." He went to continue but she cut across him, pulling back and staring at him with worried uncomprehending eyes.

"The boys?" Her voice was strained with emotion and dawning understanding.

"Yeah for the wedding." He murmured quietly and watched her balk at the mention of it.

"Are they Ok?" She asked in panic.

"Sahi look, look" he replied, forgetting about their agreement to abandon that affectionate endearment – she hardly seemed to notice it anyway. "They're right here. Right here." He told her, trying to calm her and to direct her attention to the boys who stood at their father's legs looking up at their distraught mother, covered as she was in Greg's blood.

"Oh thank God. Thank God." She exulted in the news that the boys were unharmed. Honestly, she hadn't even considered their involvement in this, Greg had made no indication that they would be involved – but then he had said it was all a surprise, she guessed they were part of that.

"Hey, hey. Don't you look smart?" She spoke softly, trying to dry her tears as she bent down and held onto their shoulders and took in their matching tuxedos.

"Did you hurt yourself Mummy?" Indy asked, taking in her blood stained blouse and coming to the only logical conclusion, in his mind anyway.

"No baby, I'm fine."

"Then why aren't you in your pretty dress?" He asked, "are you marrying Greg?"

"No baby. It was a lovely surprise but something..." She faltered not sure how to tell them what had happened.

Rafi took this as his cue to step in, knowing that she needed his support. "Listen boys, Greg was on his way to pick you up, but he had an accident in the car. Mummy and Daddy's friends are looking after him now because he's been hurt. But they will take good care of him and Mummy will get married to him, later when he feels better. She _will_." He insisted looking at Sahira with sincere eyes as he hoped to convey the optimism in his explanation to her. "I think what Mummy could really do with now is a big kiss and a cuddle from both of you." He told them and they automatically closed the gap between themselves and their mother and wrapped their soft hands around her neck.

* * *

><p>She scooped their bodies in towards her and they both cocooned around her, allowing her to hoist them into the air and to pull their bodies as physically close to hers as she could. She had not held them both in her arms simultaneously since Sunni had been Indy's age and his brother had been a baby. They were heavier now and she probably shouldn't be lifting such weight given the baby she carried inside of her, but right now all thoughts of a future seemed to be suspended and she could only focus on the feel of her children against her body as they tried to comfort her in any way they could. She mouthed a 'thank you' at Rafi as she felt Indy press a wet kiss to her cheek and Sunni beginning to twist the tendrils of her hair in his fingers, moving his head closer to her neck as he sought her ear and whispered "It'll be Ok Mummy."<p>

This solemn promise from her wise little son caused fresh tears to spout from her eyes but she tried not to let them see or hear them as she thought about how lucky she was to have such wonderful boys and a man like Rafi here in this moment, offering all the support she could never have asked for.

"I love you millions." She told them, meaning it, as always.

"Love you millions more." They both told her, squeezing her just that little bit tighter.

* * *

><p>She held them for what felt like hours, taking comfort from their movements against her; from the way they tried to soothe her with soft sweet nothings. A wave of calm had settled upon her which made her feel like she could finally cope with anything that her colleagues had to tell her, if only they would. She had never dealt well with being in the dark but somehow holding her children close and having Rafi distract her with small insignificances diminished her awareness of this fact and so she waited, surrounded by her family for any news.<p>

Eventually her overwrought body tired from the effort – not only of holding her up but also of holding up two small boys who weren't babies anymore. Slowly she sank to the sofa in the office and was grateful when neither of the boys attempted to move away from her but instead cuddled down into her.

She kissed them both, noticing how Indy was growing heavy in her lap, a sign that he was drifting off to sleep and she let him rest against her shoulder, smoothing his hair comfortingly. How she wished that she could have that innocence again – the ability to just drift off and wake up when everything was alright again, but she knew she would never again have the luxury of feeling that way. For these precious minutes however, when she could just hold her children and consequently hold onto the hope that things would be Ok, she felt like nothing could touch her which was why she experienced a sinking feeling when she heard a knock at the door and then Elliot's head popped around the door.

"Sahira, I'm sorry to disturb you but can we talk about the course of action for Greg's case?" He spoke softly, averting his eyes as he twisted his hands together nervously.

"Yes, please just tell me..." She replied.

"Are you sure you want me to go ahead now?" Elliot asked looking towards Rafi.

"I can leave if you'd prefer." Rafi replied, speaking to Sahira – he knew that he was the reason the older man hesitated.

"No. Will you stay? Please stay with me." She begged him desperately, suddenly feeling like she couldn't be without the one person who was providing her with support right now. Even though they'd been through so much, she felt like in that moment, Rafi was her guardian and she wasn't quite ready to let him go.

"Of course." He replied automatically, knowing that this wasn't to be mistaken. She _had_ moved on, she was in love with Greg and all things being as they should once they got over this, she would marry him but he felt settled, calmed somehow by the fact that she was still willing to have him in her life and he knew that right now he was the one she looked to for protection. That was definitely something he could offer her. He nodded his head as if to confirm his decision and she offered him a small smile as he joined her on the sofa and took her hand, turning back towards Elliot, he squeezed it just a little bit tighter as if to say, 'I'm here as long as you need me'...

* * *

><p><strong>Well there it is, I hope you enjoyed it. I know I'm dragging it out a little bit, but I couldn't resist using Rafi in this way. The next chapter will set out the game plan and might even see the return of a familiar face ;-) keep reading to find out who. Reviews and tweets ( sassybritchelle) are always appreciated and I hope you'll let me know what you thought. <strong>

**Please excuse all minor editorial errors, I have done my best to get rid of them all. **

**Thanks for reading, Love as always, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	20. Holding Out for a Hero

**Hello lovely people, **

**Thank you so much for your support on the previous chapter and thanks to my guest reviewer who reminded me that an update was indeed due. Sorry if it feels like I've not updated in ages, life and other such complications got in the way but I'm here now. **

**This chapter will see some progress back towards HEA I promise and incidentally, the return of a familiar face I just couldn't resist writing about. As such this chapter is named after the Bonnie Tyler song of the same name, so credit where it's due. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"I think the best thing for me to do under the circumstances is to proceed without giving you the sugar-coated version of events, I respect you too much to give you such a poor-man's account anyway. Now, Sahira, I must remind you that as you know, in our profession, it is very much a game of chance. There are any number of variables to consider and in a case like Greg's those variables are increased in number and the risks necessarily higher. Also since we are dealing with an actual human being rather than a text book example, conditions may not always be in our favour. Nevertheless, please know that what I am about to tell you comes from my duty to Greg as my patient and not from anything other than that." Elliot began to explain, the hesitation in his voice clearer than day.<p>

"I understand Elliot." Sahira promised, still clinging to Rafi's hand.

"I have consulted with Ric and he is at current scrubbing up in preparation for the removal of the shard in Greg's chest cavity. This is progress, don't mistake me, but as you know the C.T element will provide further complications. Now, assuming that we can keep him monitored sufficiently and that Ric exercises speed in his removal of the foreign body, this part of the surgery necessary will be straightforward."

"Elliot, why is it that I sense there are things you don't want to say?" She asked, her worry peaking again.

"That's precisely it Sahira. There are things I don't want to say. Ric is confident that the G.S intervention will be a success. I'm afraid that as it stands, that is the best news I am at liberty to give. As you know, Greg has undergone numerous tests to ascertain the condition of his heart and I'm afraid it's worse than we thought. Although when his heart failed the paramedics on scene were able to restart it, what they couldn't possibly have known was that one of the valves in his heart had collapsed which is why the attack was brought on so quickly. In my time at this hospital I am sure I've never seen a valve in such a condition and judging by the scans, it may prove to be beyond repair." He told her quietly.

She was silent, seemingly having zoned out of the conversation, watching it from afar and not quite finding herself able to comprehend it.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" Elliot asked his voice thick with what she knew to be tears.

"Irreparable?" She breathed, a sickness rising within her.

He took her free hand, giving it a gentle squeeze in the hope of conveying his sadness and sympathy to her but she pulled her hand quickly away in disbelief and anger.

"What? Irreparable? I don't believe you. So what? You're just going to give up on him? That's second rate medicine and I know you're anything but second rate. You're up for the professorship for goodness' sake! There must be something you can do. Let me have a look at him, I bet there's something you've missed, some detail you've overlooked." She told him speaking too quickly for him to be able to intersect with his thoughts on the subject.

"Sahira... Listen, I'm not saying there aren't things that can be done, procedures we could try. What I am saying is I don't feel confident enough to go ahead with them, or for that matter well researched enough, not on any patient and _certainly_ not on a colleague." He told her, his voice somehow remaining level and calm despite his rising discomfort.

"So instead you'd rather do the honourable thing and let him die?" She asked, hardly believing these words were coming out of Elliot's mouth.

"That's not fair. All I'm saying is that the kind of medicine I'm talking about involves artificial materials, the replacement of living human tissue for mechanical valves - that sort of thing. You know as well as I do I have never been an ambassador for artificial medicinal practice, nor am I ever likely to be." He sighed, knowing she would hate him for his refusal to at least try.

"This isn't like you at all Elliot; you're nothing if not an optimist."

"I'm sorry."

"Surely if you can't do it, there must be someone who can? Jac?"

"Well as much as I'm sure Miss Naylor would love the boost to her CV, you and I both know she's barely out of registrar status and I wouldn't risk a life so precious as Greg's in the hands of a decidedly hasty surgeon." He told her resignedly.

"If you don't do this Elliot, you're condemning him to death and I can't be without him, I just can't. I love him, I need him." She implored desperately.

"I know and I will try my best to fix what I can but without the mechanical valve replacement, any repair work I can achieve will be temporary at best." He told already retreating towards theatre.

"Elliot..." She called after him, running to the door.

"Yes?"

"Is it that can't do it, or that you won't?" She asked and even she could hear the resentment there.

"Oh Miss Shah," he began to reply sadly "if you don't know the answer to that then I despair of our relationship – both professional and personal." He told her and then he was gone...

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><p>It was as he feared, things were far worse than anything the scans could have shown and any work he could do now was futile. He had passed the point of hearing Jac's sarcastic and unhelpful commentary several long minutes ago and all he could concentrate on was the blood which kept flowing. Each attempt to quell the profuse bleeding just resulted in more and he knew this was a sign that his friend and colleague was rapidly deteriorating.<p>

"Mr Hope..." Jac spoke up after a moment and yet it was as if the older man hadn't heard her at all.

"Elliot!" She repeated again, her voice filled with panic now.

"What is it Miss Naylor?" He asked his tone perturbed.

"Can't you hear it? He's arresting!" She told him, conscious always of the promise she had made to Sahira.

He worked quickly and in relative silence, issuing only instructions for this or that as he needed specific equipment. A sheen was appearing at his brow, he could feel it and it was all because Sahira's last words burned in his mind. It was a valid question was it really that he couldn't do this or was it more accurate to say that he wouldn't? Elliot Hope was a principled man and he had been educated the old way when mechanical advances in the cardiac field had been non-existent and he was nervous about endeavouring into a field he had only read about in the papers of someone entirely confident in that particular area of expertise. Still, Elliot thought to himself that it wasn't simply a case of adhering to his principles, he was more than a little paternally motivated towards all those on his team and he always prided himself on looking out for them. No. His refusal was about more than the traditions of an old man, it had to do with the fact that despite his recommendation by Hanssen to the professorship on Darwin, he still doubted his abilities and to doubt was to risk and even more than he disliked the knowledge that Greg might be lost without the aid of the machines he needed, the feeling that he could bring about his death at a later point due to an ill-fitted, inaccurately positioned valve was less appealing and so he soldiered on, trying his best to manually repair the collapsed valve and therefore save the younger man.

Minutes more passed and Greg slipped in and out of stabilisation, to the point where Elliot's calm exterior began to slip.

"Mr Hope, please... we're going to lose him." Jac almost begged which was such an unusual thing in the young woman.

"I'd thank you to leave the pessimism at the door Jac." He told her quietly.

"Elliot... I could do this; I've read enough papers, even assisted. Greg is... well he's almost a textbook example of a case in which the artificial valve would be a success. Above everything, what my knowledge of this type of medicine tells me is that he needs mechanical intervention for survival and soon."

They were silent for a moment and it seemed that Jac had surprised even herself with her unselfish speech. Elliot fixed her with a determined stare before he replied. "I know. But the thing of it is, neither of us has the experience – or indeed the steadiness of hand owing to current pressures to go through with this procedure, however much we might have read about it." He told her and even Jac had to admit that this was true.

"So what do we do?"

"I don't know." He replied honestly, leaning over his patient and furrowing his brow as he tried to think of the best course of action.

"Alright Greg," Elliot mused "what would you do?"

As if on cue, the arrest alarms began to sound. Elliot's whole body went on alert and he tensed as he watched Jac delve back into the space they had created in Greg's chest and begin another attempt to suture the valve. "That's what I thought." He spoke aloud, sounding as if he had come to a blindingly obvious realisation, aided by the unconscious man. "Someone get me a phone." He instructed, waiting for his request to be fulfilled.

* * *

><p>Outside of the theatre, Elliot was filled with dread as he waited for the call to connect. This was the third time he had attempted the mobile number he had and it was the third time he'd heard it ringing out. He should have been in there with Greg, as senior surgeon, he was responsible but on the assurance of Jac and the whole team, he had surmised that Greg and his distraught fiancé might forgive him in the long run. So long as this paid off.<p>

"Come on, come on." He murmured, looking at the contraption in his hand and cursing the day that complex mobile phones had taken over the world.

He managed to figure out how to redial and after having successfully managed this, listened to the incessant ringing. He was just about to hang up when on his fourth attempt, he finally heard the call connect, followed by the sound of a familiar voice he had never been more grateful to hear.

* * *

><p>"<em>Hello? Elliot, is that you?" <em>

"Yes. Well, it's about that favour I'm sure you owe me..." He replied, knowing he did not have much time to waste with games like this.

"_I owe you?" _the person on the other of the telephone laughed warmly then continued _"go on_."

"Where are you?"

"_I was in Hamburg and when I say I was, I mean I have literally just landed back in England. I'm in London now – I work at King's Cross hospital, I thought I told you about it." _

"Ah yes, of course. It's good to know you're back on our soil. I was sorry to hear about your father, you know that."

"_I do know that. Now come on Elliot, why don't you tell me what this call is really about? I wasn't expecting to hear from you again until Christmas." _

"There's been an accident. One of our own, Greg Douglas. He had a shard of glass roughly a foot long lodged in his chest cavity but he has congenital heart failure which lead to his accident and his valve has collapsed, I've tried everything I can to repair it, but..."

"_The mechanical valve." _

"Yes."

"_Why? I know you could do that procedure, you've read enough of my research, assisted me, fought me over it..." _

"My years in the field pale in comparison to your experience." He joked.

"_Don't be ridiculous." _

"I need your help. Will you come?"

"_I will come, but only because I can see something's gone awry at Holby if you think you can't stand on your own two feet." _

"Thank you."

"_I'll be there as soon as I can. Where is Mr Douglas now?" _

"In theatre with Miss Naylor, as far as I know he's stable."

"_Get him to ICU, heavily sedated and monitored. We'll take him back in when I've made my assessments."_

"I appreciate this. I know Sahira will too."

"_Sahira?" _

"They're engaged, a lot has changed."

"_So it seems." _The person replied and then they were gone.

* * *

><p>After having communicated what had transpired to a very confused Sahira, Elliot had wagered that the best thing to do would be to allow her to sit with Greg until such time as the aid he required arrived. He watched her now, sitting by the side of his bed in ICU, clinging to his limp hand and he was filled only with pity. She didn't understand any of this and he was sorry for that, sorry for putting her through those painful moments when he had emerged earlier than expected from theatre and she had thought the worst had happened. Of course now he had explained it, she was on the same page about how he meant to proceed in Greg's treatment but that still hadn't been able to take her pain away, he knew as much as he might have wanted to be, he was not the person to do that for her...<p>

* * *

><p>She watched him in silence, trying her best not to cry – it wouldn't do any good for her to cry now, she needed to be strong. Her eyes were fixed solidly on the rise and fall of his chest as machines took up the slack of his heart. She knew that beneath the loose covering of bandages around his chest, the cavity was open, awaiting further surgery and she was overwhelmingly relieved to find that he no longer had a shard of glad protruding from his body. He was alive but barely and she tried to take comfort in the sound of the machines and the knowledge that they were keeping him with her until such time as help arrived and he would be saved.<p>

The minutes ticked by and Sahira knew from her own experience that every minute spent on ventilation was a minute's more risk. Soon it was no longer a case of a few minutes, but rather that an hour had passed and she found that her desperation to help him was again beginning to rise to dangerous levels until she was sure that if Elliot hadn't been watching, she might have attempted further surgery here in ICU herself. She heard him enter behind her and felt the weight of his hand on her shoulder.

"It won't be long now." He promised.

"That doesn't seem quick enough Elliot." She told him, she was no longer angry but rather shaky.

"I know, I'm sorry I couldn't do more. This just isn't my field of expertise." He apologised again.

"I understand and I appreciate that you've gone to such measures for Greg, but was this really necessary? I have faith in you Elliot, you could have done this." She told him and before he could reply, he was interrupted by the sound of another, all too familiar.

"That Miss Shah," she spoke from the doorway, "is precisely what I said." They both turned towards her, the returning hero, or rather heroine, the one person who could offer them aid in a situation like this without once doubting her own ability.

Sahira found herself breathing a sigh of relief as she regarded the strong, confident, 'don't mess with me' stance adopted by Connie Beauchamp. At last there was hope.

* * *

><p>Sahira crossed the room to the other woman, whose reputation as a pioneer, a maverick and a surgeon beyond compare had made her one of the most formidable women in Holby's long history of surgeons who had moved on. She outstretched her hand immediately and was glad when Connie returned the courtesy, shaking her by the hand.<p>

"Mrs Beauchamp, I can't tell you how grateful I am that you could come, thank you." Her voice was still raw with emotions.

"I'm glad that Mr Hope caught me in London, at least I can be of service to my team... my _old _team." She seemed to lament the loss of the team spirit her colleagues at Holby had always effortlessly provided. "Please don't however, assume that I am here because I agree with Elliot's ludicrous belief that he is incapable of performing such surgery. My reasons are quite to the contrary in fact, I want to make sure that Elliot's skill is not becoming forsaken for any other scheme at this hospital." She assured her, turning towards the man she spoke of.

"Now Elliot, what's all this fuss about mechanical medicine? I know you have every faith in the developments of science." She raised a discerning eyebrow at him.

"In science yes, but not in technology. Thank you for coming Connie. It's good to see you." He told her and the woman moved towards him, outstretching her arms to him. Elliot Hope was one of the few people whom she allowed physical contact of this type with and it felt good to be here with him, even if he did almost squeeze the life from her.

"The establishment is not beating the principled Mr Hope now is it?" She asked as she drew back.

"No... No... Of course not." He bumbled, in awe of her commanding presence as always.

"Good, well, shall we get down to business then?" She asked, her eyes shifting towards the still figure of Greg.

The two surgeons could only nod and look on in wonderment as she approached Greg with the same tough, but caring detachment she afforded all her patients.

* * *

><p>"Well?" Sahira asked minutes later when Connie emerged from the ICU bay with Elliot after having asked her to step out, which she had done with some reluctance "can you do it?"<p>

Connie drew in a breath before she spoke, it was something she had always done, adding perhaps to the dramatic gravitas of her words, not that she needed any help in that respect. "I've considered the scans, both pre and post surgery as well as the current condition of Mr Douglas and I would say that his case does seem plausible with regard to the use of a mechanical valve." She told the other woman, using a tone of deliberate care so that any misunderstanding would be avoided.

"Thank you." Sahira just about managed to murmur as she felt tears of relief sliding down her cheeks.

"Now Miss Shah, I'm not saying this will be an easy operation. You must remember after all that Mr Douglas has undergone two procedures already today and given the trauma his body has been put under, the risks are increased. I understand you are not married yet, but given what Elliot has told me about the proximity of his immediate family, I would like to ask you for your consent so that I can proceed with the fitting of a mechanical valve as soon as Elliot can re-secure a slot in theatre, with his assistance of course."

"It'll be successful?" She asked, doubtful since she had done little research into this type of medicine herself.

"I don't expect you to be up to date with statistics for this procedure, particularly given that it is not your field of interest or indeed practice, but let me assure you that the successes far outweigh the failed attempts. Does that help?" She seemed softer somehow than she remembered and even Elliot seemed surprised at her compassion. Perhaps the loss of her father and the increased time she now spent with Grace had melted her heart a little.

"Then you have my consent on Greg's behalf and I'm sure on behalf of his family, but what about Hanssen? He's not an advocate of seconding work out to external surgeons at the best of times and I'm afraid I may not have helped that." Sahira told her, regretting the harsh words she had exchanged with Henrik earlier.

"You leave Hanssen to me. I'm sure a few subtle reminders wouldn't go amiss." Connie told her, hinting at some hidden understanding between the director of surgery and the old Queen of Holby and both Sahira and Elliot bore witness to the return of the Ice Queen as they had known her before.

"Then please, just save him." Sahira begged and the other woman took her by the shoulders, almost forcing her to look at her.

"I will do everything in my power, Ok? All you have to do is trust me. Now you know how I work and whatever you might think of me, I promise the patient always comes first in everything I do, so trust that whatever is in my capability, whatever this case requires of me, I will do it." She told her.

"Thank you." Sahira said again with a small smile.

Elliot turned to her then, offering her his own reassurances before suggesting that she should go home to rest.

"I'd rather stay here." She protested.

"Sahira, it's going to be a long night . You've already been on shift today and you've been through all this tonight, you need to rest."

"I want to be with him when he wakes up."

"You will be." Connie told her, "look this procedure is going to take at least two hours. Use that time to go home, have a shower, get some rest and please try not to worry. You're exhausted anyone can see that and what Mr Douglas will need when he wakes up is a fiancé who has strength in bountiful measure. The recovery from this accident will be a long one and you need to take care of yourself too."

"You'll call me, whatever time, however small you think the development might be?" She asked desperately.

"Sahira, of course we will. So will you please go home for a while?" Elliot asked, needing to know that she was taken care of before he could leave her.

"Alright."

"Get Rafi to take you back to the house, be with your children for a while." He told her.

"Take care of him." She replied, thinking only of Greg.

"We will." He assured her.

As they rounded the corner she heard them talking together as if Mrs Beauchamp had never been gone.

"Is Miss Naylor available?" She asked.

"I think after Greg's surgery she had an angioplasty to perform but I'm sure that anything so _mundanely _routine will fade into obscurity when compared with the chance to work as part of your firm again Connie. It's an opportunity we will all relish." He seemed glad and relieved that she was here.

"How is Jac fairing now?"

"She's driven, I'll give her that."

"Then she's doing what I instructed." She smiled, continuing up the corridor as they made their way from ICU to Darwin.

"Which was?"

"_To fill my shoes_." She smiled at the memory.

"Don't be so sure." Elliot replied, "They are after all, the finest shoes to fill." He told her as they disappeared around the corner and out of ear shot.

* * *

><p>Sahira stood slightly dumbfounded just outside of Greg's ICU bay as she watched a nurse begin to prep him. She felt relieved that much she knew, but she also recognised that this was only the first step in what would likely be a very long journey. Nevertheless, as she slipped back inside the room, kissed him and told him how much she loved him, waiting for the porters to collect him for theatre, she felt there was hope and the hope of a hero was about the only thing she had to cling onto now.<p>

* * *

><p>Minutes after he had been taken from ICU to Darwin one, she found herself at a loss for what to do. She got up slowly, making her way back onto the ward in search of Rafi, once she had located him, explained what was happening and found herself walking towards his car with her children, she realised there was only one thing she <em>could<em> do and that was to wait...

* * *

><p><strong>There it is, I hope you enjoyed it. On the express wishes of Jen, I thought I had better take steps towards making Greg better. I also couldn't resist the opportunity to write Connie back in, she is and always will be my favourite Ice Queen and I thought this was good way of incorporating her back into the text of my story. She won't be a regular character, but I think the Queen still has some fire inside of her for a few more chapters at least... well actually probably only the next one or two, but I hope I captured her. I wanted to show a change in her since her departure from the wards, but not to migrate too far away from her character on the show, hope it worked. <strong>

**As always, reviews and tweets ( sassybritchelle) are more than welcome and indeed, given that I return to uni on Monday for my final year (eek!) it will remind me that updates are due. **

**Please do forgive any minor editorial mistakes, they are my own and I have tried my best to get rid of them. **

**Thank you as always to all who continue to read and support this, love you all. **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	21. Wake Me Up

**Hello lovely people, **

**Thank you so much for supporting this one, as always it means the world to me. You are all golden and I appreciate you taking the time to read it. **

**This chapter takes its name from the song of the same name by the super talented Mr Ed Sheeran so credit where it's due. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City, its characters and plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>It had been almost two hours since Sahira had left the hospital to get some rest and, as she swung her car back into a space and turned off the ignition, she wasn't sure what she was going to find when she walked back in. She hadn't heard from Elliot and he had promised to inform her the moment they encountered the slightest complication, so she tried to take comfort in the knowledge that her phone had not rung in the time she had been absent. No news was good news after all, or at least that's what she told herself as she entered Holby City general and made her way to the lifts as if on auto-pilot. As she waited for the lift to ascend, she distinctly felt the pang of loss at the fact that Rafi and the boys were no longer with her. Now more than ever she felt she could use someone to hold her hand as she prayed not to find that the worst had happened.<p>

The ward was quiet. It was after midnight and the graveyard shift had truly commenced. The bays were dark and the night staff sat at the nurses' station waiting for the clock to hit the half hour or hour which would indicate their need to take obs of bays three and five or waited for any minor disturbance. She approached them, one locum she hadn't met before and an agency nurse she'd seen a few times. Both abandoned their previous employments - copies of whichever celebrity gossip magazines they had been able to get their hands on – and looked up at her with a somber expression.

"Hello Miss Shah." The nurse greeted her as she slid into a vacant seat behind the station.

"Hi Fiona." Sahira returned before venturing to ask what she truly wished to know. "Have Mr Hope and Mrs Beauchamp come out of theatre yet?"

The nurse paused before replying "Mrs Beauchamp? No Miss Shah, they haven't." Her confusion at the mention of the old queen of Holby seemed evident.

"How long has theatre one been occupied now?" She asked, glancing towards the doors and to the corridor beyond it which housed the theatres.

"Almost exactly two hours." Fiona replied looking down at her watch. It was the answer Sahira had expected.

"Thanks." She muttered before turning her chair more firmly towards the door as if she was on sentry duty, waiting for the emergence of some unknown enemy. She knew the only enemy she feared right now was the harbinger of death...

She drummed her fingernails against the surface of the nurses' station in an almost incessant need to find something to occupy her and she tried hard not to look at the clock, although she was overwhelmingly aware of the passage of time. It was now approaching almost two and a half hours since Greg had been taken into theatre and although Connie had advised that the procedure would take _at least_ two hours, Sahira couldn't help but imagine that every minute past that generous time limit was a minute in which the worst was happening. She just wanted to know and yet, she dared not attempt to go to the theatre for fear of what she would find.

* * *

><p>Fifteen further minutes passed and suddenly there was a commotion at the door beyond the ward and Sahira was instantly out of her seat, reaching the door in time to meet Elliot Hope who had just buzzed himself back onto the ward.<p>

"Sahira..." He breathed regarding the other woman quietly. "You look better." He smiled.

"Never mind that, what's the news?" Sahira asked desperately.

"Well..." Elliot started, but she quickly interrupted him.

"Just tell me, did it work?" She asked.

"I was just going to tell you. Greg is in recovery as we speak. Sahira the valve replacement was a success owing to the work of the entire team. It'll be a long process but he's going to be fine." He assured her with a smile.

"Oh Elliot, oh thank you!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck "you have no idea what this means to me – you saved him." She murmured against his shirt as the older man made a sound of surprise.

"Actually Miss Shah I think you'll find it was far more down to the skill of Mrs Beauchamp than any of my own efforts that we made it successfully through the operation so perhaps you'd do better to thank her." He told her modestly.

"I intend to but I appreciate everything I know you would have done in there too Elliot." She told him, dismissing his self-degradation. "Where is Connie now?" She asked.

"She's with Greg down in recovery, making the last few arrangements for his return to the ward, I imagine they'll be along in a moment and you mustn't forget Jac, she was very helpful in there." He told her, thinking about how well Miss Naylor had assisted and how driven she had seemed to be towards getting Greg through the operation.

"Oh, she's been very helpful today." Sahira replied sarcastically, thinking back to the other woman's revelation earlier that day.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing... Well, only that she shared some information it wasn't her place to tell anyone." She explained, following Elliot to the private bay after he told her this was where they planned for Greg to stay until he was recovered enough to return home.

"Listen, I don't want you thinking about your shift later either, just be with Greg." Elliot told her understandingly.

"Thank you." She replied and they waited in expectant and companionable silence.

* * *

><p>It was not long before she heard the buzzing of the ward entrance and it took everything she had not to rush to the door but somehow she managed to stay where she was and watched two porters wheeling Greg into the bay, followed just behind by Mrs Connie Beauchamp, the hero of the hour. She rushed forward, clinging to the bars on the trolley as she leant in, desperate to see him.<p>

He looked at peace, he looked restful, he looked alive and she couldn't help pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, which aside from a single deep scar, was back to all its former handsomeness. She hardly saw it though, since she was too consumed by the fact that he was alive to notice about any small blemishes to his face.

"Mrs Beauchamp," she breathed looking up after a moment. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"There's no need for thanks Miss Shah, I was simply doing my duty as a doctor and besides, it was hardly a singular effort." She replied, looking directly at Elliot who reddened and averted his eyes a little.

"I really appreciate everything you did for him. All of you." Sahira repeated again.

"It was nothing, honestly. Now he's..." Connie started but Sahira who had been watching Greg fixedly, spoke over her.

"He's breathing, independently." She murmured at this wonder, this miracle.

"Yes," Connie laughed a little. "He is which of course is important. But I was going to say that he's currently sedated. You know this is usual practice after a procedure such as this, but in my opinion it is especially important in Greg's case, given the trauma his body has undergone. You know of course that the body heals itself best when it is at rest, so I have set the dosage of the sedative in accordance with this. He will be kept under close observation throughout the remainder of the night and the nurses have been instructed to lower the dosage of sedative every hour with the last being administered at nine a.m, so eight and a half hours time. After which time Mr Douglas may still sleep on, but after the final dose has been administered he will wake up in due course." She explained.

"Thank you, it means so much to me that you would come all this way for Greg, for us..."

"Well the important thing is that early indications are proving that Greg should make a full recovery, as long as he keeps up his outpatient appointments, he's going to be fine." She told her.

"...and you?" A third voice asked from the doorway and Sahira turned towards her with a forgiving smile.

"I'm fine Jac." She told her crossing the room and embracing her despite the awkwardness of the gesture between the two women. "We both are." She assured her thinking of the baby, whispering close to her ear. "I wanted to thank you Jac for your help with Greg and for being here when I needed you. I won't forget it."

"Please do." Jac replied sarcastically, trying to brush off the significance and vitality of her role today. "But you know, I do try not break the promises I make, as rule to my... friends." She shrugged, stepping out the other woman's embrace before leaving with one flick of her long red hair.

"Well we'll leave you now Miss Shah. A nurse will be along shortly and I'll be back in a few hours to check on him. If you have any problems, I believe for the rest of the night at least, you can reach me at Elliot's although I'm sure the locum will be more than capable should anything go awry, which I'm hopeful, it won't. I would recommend that you try to get some sleep, although I appreciate that it might be easier said than done."

"Thank you." She said again, not knowing how she could ever repay the team of surgeons who had saved Greg's life and as a consequence her own. "Goodnight." She continued as she watched them leave.

Once they were gone and it was just her and the sleeping form of her fiancé, she pulled a chair up to the side of his bed and settled into wait, again she found that it was all she could do for him...

* * *

><p>She would remain vigilant, this she promised herself. Although she knew full well that what Connie had said was true – that the sedative would not wear off for hours – she did not want to miss a moment in his company and most vitally, the moment when he woke up. So she remained stiff in her chair, her hand alternately holding his or stroking his face in the limited light as she waited impatiently for the hours to slip by. She felt more than a little surge of hope, a thrill of excitement even when every hour, on the hour, she witnessed the nurse coming in and adjusting the dosage of Greg's sedative and she knew that they must be approaching the time of the final dosage soon.<p>

It was a little after six thirty in the morning as she looked at the clock, feeling her eyes growing heavy. She had slept for about half an hour at Rafi's house and even that had been fitful and she knew her body was exhausted, but still she did not want to go back on her promise to herself not to be asleep as he woke.

She stared straight ahead, keeping her eyes fixed on the clock and watching the seconds tick by into minutes which would bring her closer to the moment of his waking and her sweet relief. _06.31, 06.32, 06.3-_. She was hardly aware of the moment when her head rested on the edge of the bed and she lost consciousness in favour of sleep.

* * *

><p>The ward was busy with the sounds one expected from a working hospital in the early morning. The phones were ringing off the hook, a mixture of both external calls in concerning current admissions – worried relatives, angry bosses – and internal calls, transfers from the emergency department and acute admissions wards. Although it had been a tough night, the staff on both Keller and Darwin could be seen to be putting in a diligent effort at keeping up with their patients both new and existing and, as she stalked through the corridors as she had when she had been queen here after having gotten some sustenance in the form of an espresso, Connie Beauchamp concluded that it was to this hospital's credit that its staff were so committed to the well being of its patients.<p>

She quickly downed the coffee, discarded the cup and made her way back up to Darwin. She would not be here for much longer, she hadn't even been properly seconded from King's Cross and although she was the clinical lead on her ward there and was therefore at liberty to determine her own hours of practice, she had a feeling the threat of her continued presence on the wards of this hospital would be a source of discomfort to the director of surgery here and she wanted to absent herself before having to commence a full scale battle with the Swedish man. Besides, one couldn't walk the corridors of one's past forever. It would have been different if she had found herself quite the same person she had been when she had left here. But she wasn't capable of being so cold and unfeeling on the outside anymore. Grace, _amazing_ Grace had melted her from the inside out and she couldn't nor did she want to, go back. She had done what she had come here to do, she had repaid Elliot the favour of his eternal support and she believed she had restored his confidence in his abilities but most importantly, she had used her power for good and Mr Douglas lived because of her new found compassion.

She greeted the day staff who had been quite unaware of her return and accepted their quiet murmured 'welcome backs' as a testament to the fact that her reputation and legacy had left a lasting impression. She checked in with the night nurse who informed her that as her instructions had dictated, Mr Douglas had received the last dose of the sedative administered two hours earlier, at nine a.m. She thanked her and watched her leave for home before she proceeded to the private bay.

She entered silently, noticing the second she opened the door that Miss Shah was sound asleep, her head resting on the bed as she gripped Greg's hand tightly as if she was afraid to let go again. She checked his obs chart, smiling her approval and observing her patient. His stats were stable and his chest rose and fell without interruption or excessive labour and he looked at peace. She was just about to leave when she heard a stirring behind her and turned back towards the bed.

* * *

><p>That first pent up breath escaped him in a rush of air and his observer imagined that it was breath that had been longing for release since his heart had stopped. He moved slightly, flexing his fingers and then flexing them again when he realised that Sahira was holding his hand. He sighed and raised his free hand to his eyes, seemingly wiping the sleep from them and when he had, blinked a few times before opening his eyes. When he did, she knew he saw the last person he had ever expected and this was only confirmed in the first words he spoke.<p>

"Mrs Beauchamp?"

* * *

><p><strong>He's alive, he's awake and he's going to be fine, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I wanted to start proceedings to make him better and I hope you liked what I did here. The next chapter will get us back on track with the Greg and Sahira-ness and I believe they both have some secrets to share. <strong>

**Do let me know what you think, as always your opinions are gold-dust to me. **

**Please forgive again minor editorial mistakes you may encounter, they are my own and I have tried to get rid of them all. **

**Now, I start back at uni on Monday for my final year (eek) and as such updates may take me a little longer but I remain committed to this and my lovely readers **

**Thank you for reading, **

**Love, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	22. Secret

**Hello lovely people :-) **

**So I realise that when I said "updates may take a little longer to appear" at the start of my uni term you probably weren't expecting that it'd be THREE MONTHS before a new chapter appeared, but my third year has been sapping my energy both in general and with the work load so hey-ho, I got here as quickly as was physically possible and the fact that I've not posted for so long on this one only makes me appreciate the reviews YOU have been leaving in my absence all the more, so thank you as always to all my lovely readers.**

**Ok so here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy it. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics. Also the title is taken from the song of the same name by Maroon 5, which I have had on repeat for months and which seemed fitting here.**

* * *

><p>"Mr Douglas, good to have you back with us, she said, smiling slightly.<p>

Greg rubbed his eyes again, purging the remaining sleep and trying to clear his addled mind before he could reply. "Ok, so either I'm still dreaming or I've gone back in time and woken up in Holby past."

"Neither of the above actually, Do you remember anything about what happened?"

He was silent for a moment, trying to remember. After a moment, he closed his eyes – all the better to concentrate. Happiness. A dress on the seat. Flowers. Hurt. Pain. Dying. Smash. Blue, everywhere. Blackout. Wake up. Here. Alive.

"Sahira!" His cry was desperate and he didn't seem to be aware of the weight clinging to him.

"Ssh, Ssh," Connie soothed, indicating his company. "You were in an accident, do you remember? On the parkway, your heart failed and one of your valves subsequently collapsed. You've been fitted with a mechanical replacement, you're going to be fine but you have to keep up with your outpatient appointments. Missing them won't do."

"So basically I'm iron man?"

She appeared perturbed by his immature reply."Basically," she said, lowering her voice in accordance with the sleeping woman, "you're lucky to be alive at all. Miss Shah had no idea about the extent of your condition. Perhaps the two of you need to have a conversation, so that she's in the know and not worried out of her mind about leaving you alone. Hmm?"

"You're right," he said, sighing and looking down at her. "How long has she been here?"

"I'm told since the end of her shift yesterday when you were brought in. She had about two hours at home, but she's been here ever since."

"I was only trying to organise our... huh."

"What is it?" Connie asked, her tone registering the slightest note of concern, "Mr Douglas are you in pain?"

"No, no. It's just... This is the first time I've seen her wearing her ring on her left hand since the night I gave it to her. A year ago." He raised her hand up, letting his lips brush against her fingers.

"Well, Mr Douglas, sometimes it takes a scare like this to make a person appreciate what's right in front of them," her tone was sombre as she thought of the time when Grace had been hospitalised. She remembered the panic, the consuming fear that she might lose her. Sahira began to stir. "I'll leave you alone for a while, I must get back to London so I'll be handing over to Elliot but I'll be back for one final check up before I leave."

Sahira shifted her head a little, clearly uncomfortable in her half lying, half sitting position by the bed. Connie was at the door. "Mrs Beauchamp... Connie," he called softly, causing her to turn back towards him. "Thank you. For everything."

"You're quite welcome Mr Douglas. Take care of yourself and your fiancé alright?" She said and then she was gone.

* * *

><p>Sahira woke slowly and he hated to think that the sudden movement on his part of her hand from where it rested was pulling her from her dreams, but at the same time, he needed to see her face. It took a few moments more for her to open her eyes and several long seconds before she realised she was staring into his open ones.<p>

"Hey, good morning beautiful," he murmured as if they were waking up in bed at home.

She drew herself up a little, straightening the crick in her neck and looking at him with confusion. "Greg?" She seemed surprised that he was awake and for some reason was staring at the clock. He kissed her hand again and she let him before roughly pulling it away.

"You stupid, stupid man!" she shouted and in one swift motion, she was gone.

* * *

><p>The door to the private bay shook as it shut more quickly than she had planned for it to and she slid herself down the smooth wooden surface until she was in an interesting crouching position. Only when she achieved this did she let out the pent up breath she had been holding, it was the exhalation of relief. She ran her hands through her hair in an attempt to restore it from its sleep mussed state and she tried to understand why she had reacted to his waking with such anger. Hadn't it been her greatest wish that he wake up? Yes. Of course it had been, it still would have been if she had woken before him, so why had she walked away just then? It was because the second she had laid eyes on him, she had seen the love he had for her reflected back and it had only confirmed that the accident was her fault, he'd been doing something for her and she was angry, furious, not with him but with herself. She sighed heavily and looked around the bustling ward. Behind the nurses' station, all eyes were on her and only then did she realise the spectacle she was making of herself.<p>

Elliot, ever the kind and considerate friend, was the first to approach her. "Sahira? Whatever is the matter? Is Greg..."

"He's fine. He's awake," she said.

"That's excellent news!" he replied, trying to connect the two pieces of information. "Isn't it?"

"Of course, of course it is," she said, sighing again. "I just... I just needed a minute. I'm fine now. I'll tell you asked after him shall I?"

Elliot nodded, watching her opening the door again with some degree of hesitance. "Sahira," he murmured, low enough for only her to hear. "It wasn't your fault," he said.

She got the 'deer-in-the-headlights- look for just a moment as she turned towards him, before she allowed herself a small smile. "Thanks Elliot," she said as she went back inside.

* * *

><p>Greg smiled widely, his eyes containing nothing but love and relief as she re-entered. "There you are! I thought I was done for when you left," he joked but there was more than a little tension behind his words.<p>

"Greg... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, hey, what do you have to be sorry for eh?" he tried to soothe her but she stayed out of his reach.

"It's... If you hadn't been trying to organise... if I hadn't been so stubborn..."

"If I had gone to my appointments, like I was supposed to," he cut across her. "This might not have happened. It's not your fault. At all."

"I love you," she said.

"I love you too," he replied ardently. "Now come here," he patted the bed.

She complied, slipping her pumps off and crossing to the bed where she curled up against his right side and rested her head on his shoulder. "Feels good, doesn't it?" He tucked her closer against him.

"Mm hmm. I would've missed it, missed you." Her voice was strained, the words having slipped out before she could think.

"I'm sorry love, really I am. I didn't mean for it to be a huge secret. I mean you know that my Da died from the same condition, you knew it was congenital. I just didn't want you to worry about me all the time like my Mum did."

"Not to worry? Do you think this was better? For you to have an accident as big as you did, for you to die on your own, for me to be left here alone without you?"

"No love, no. That's not what I wanted at all. I hoped that this was never going to happen."

"Come on Greg, you're a CT registrar so am I. I could've handled the truth. Did you really think that this wouldn't happen?"

"I know how it sounds... Look I'm sorry Ok? I was an idiot for not telling you. Now can we please talk about something else? Like how much I want to kiss you right now."

"Mm well that seems like a good subject. But you have to promise me something first."

"Anything."

"Never leave me. Never do that to me again."

"I promise," he told her, covering her mouth.

"I'll always be honest with you, from now on," he told her with another kiss.

* * *

><p>They were quiet for what felt like hours and she simply held him, knowing that she would never again take that luxury for granted. She listened to his breathing, it was not raspy at all and his chest rose and fell steadily, he was fine. He was alive. She knew that if it wasn't fresh from surgery she could put her head over his heart and she would be able to hear it beating, good and strong. They had a second chance at doing things right and she wasn't about to waste it. She leaned up closer to him, brushing her lips against his neck and letting her teeth graze his earlobe.<p>

"Speaking of being honest... I have something to tell you. I was going to tell you yesterday, it's why I didn't want to... but if I'd known I mean... Greg, I'm sorry."

"Ssh, Ssh. It's Ok, it was a stupid thing to do I should've told you about it, should've checked whether it was what you wanted."

"I think it was such a romantic gesture and I'm just sorry that I kept resisting."

"Hey, I'm here, I'm alive. Sahira I'm fine and we're going to have plenty of time to get married and to start a life together," he assured her.

"What if... things were to start a little earlier?"

"What do you mean?"

She became visibly uncomfortable, shifting where she sat and avoiding eye contact. "Well Greg, I'm..." His hand slid straight to her stomach resting just below her navel.

"Pregnant." He smiled.

"What? How... did you know?"

"Sahira... are you forgetting? We're lovers. I know every inch of you, probably better than you do. I noticed the smallest changes, the minutely increased curve of your stomach and," he paused pulling her head around to face him "these." He slipped his hand beneath her loose blouse and completely bypassed her bra, revelling in the feel of her skin beneath his.

"Greg! What are you doing! We can't... you can't... here."

"Ssh... I'm going to behave I promise. It's just that I've noticed that your breasts have become... larger and all I've wanted to do since I started noticing is to ask you why you haven't told me."

"I suppose I thought... I don't know. Maybe it was too fast, or something."

"Too fast? Sahira I love you, when are you going to trust me on that?"

"I do. I do trust you. It's just... I thought I was done having children, I'm... a little old now to be starting again..."

"You're not old at all and don't worry we'll be starting again together. This is going to be the beginning of our life together. You, me, the boys and our child."

"Then, you're Ok with this?"

"Ok with it? Sahira this is fantastic news! We're having a baby. Do you know how long I've wanted to have a child for? I know that might seem ridiculous coming from me, the 'big child' himself but it's what I want. That I get to have a baby with you, the woman I love makes it all the better. What do you think? Will we have a little boy with my love of 'the beautiful game' or a little girl with her mother's beautiful brains? Wouldn't you like that? A daughter to do all those girlie things with, a little sister for the boys?"

She paused, pressing a small kiss to his lips again. "Yes..." she drew in a breath. "That would be nice." She said no more as she snuggled up next to him. It seemed that Sahira had another secret left to tell...

* * *

><p><strong>Well there it is, only a small one but an update nonetheless. There must be something about Holby Tuesdays that seems to make me write! <strong>

**Do let me know what you think, I hope you enjoyed it. **

**Please forgive any editorial mistakes, I have tried to get rid of them all but I may have missed some which I apologise for. **

**I'll try to update again soon but if I don't get around to it before Christmas, thanks for reading and reviewing and have a great Christmas! **

**Love, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


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